FIC: Walk This World with Me (Pt. 2 of 2)
Title: Walk This World with Me
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Jensen/Misha, Jared/Gen, OMC, cameos by Christian, Jason, Steve
Word Count: 11,850
Warning/Spoilers: This is an AU and very much did not happen. Equal parts angst, sex and cracky fluff. With a helping of cheese.
A/N: Written for the exceedingly patient cloudyjenn for, oh, I think it was to help Japan. This is a wicked late coda to A Multi-Panel Love Story -- best to read that first -- and is set about five years after the end of that one. Many thanks to paragraphs for the beta. Title is from Heather Nova's "Walk This World." There actually isn't a direct flight from Mumbai to LAX that I could see, but there should be. This was plotted out before any couples got pregnant, but this is completely AU. Most of the pregnancy stuff is based on my sister-in-law's pregnancies.
Part 1
Jensen remained convinced for the rest of the weekend and through Monday. He called Jared and said he'd like a day off the graphic novel for a mental health day and spent the entire time Harrison was in school in bed with Misha. He sat gingerly in his chair at dinner that night, his ass a little sore from the attention of Misha's tongue and cock, and tried to strike up a conversation with Harrison about his final week in the fourth grade.
Harrison was moody. It was a strange occurrence, and Jensen eyed him with a frown over the dinner table as Misha chatted about random things he'd seen during his dog-walking job. Normally Harrison loved hearing about the antics of the jack russell terrier or the rottweiler mix, but he just pushed his peas around his plate with his spoon. He didn't even perk up at the sight of biscuits.
"Harrison?" Misha asked at a break in his story. "You still with us, champ?"
Harrison shrugged and reached for his glass of milk. Jensen caught Misha's eye.
"Mr. Jim was out today, wasn't he? You like your sub?" he asked.
"Sub was stupid," Harrison muttered.
"Hey, now," Misha interjected. "It's a tough job. Cut him a little slack."
"Her," Harrison said, and surely he had not learned that biting tone of voice from them. "My sub's a girl sub. And she's stupid!"
"That's enough, Harrison!" Jensen barked. "You show adults a little respect. What'd she do to you? Tell us."
Harrison's eyes filled with tears. "She asked me if my mom had made my lunch."
Jensen's fingers stilled on his silverware. He had made Harrison's lunch, just as he had, all packed and labeled, every day since Harrison started first grade.
"I don't care I don't have a mom!" Harrison declared hotly. Jensen's heart swelled with pride even as it ached inside. "I have a dad and he's the best!"
Jensen took a steadying breath. "You have a Misha, too."
"Misha's not my dad," Harrison said, snorting and grabbing his milk again.
Misha made a low noise in the back of his throat and reached for his water as Jensen scowled at his son.
"Don't say that," he said in his most authoritative voice. Harrison's hand froze on his glass.
"Why?" he whispered. "He left us. Dads don't leave. You didn't leave."
"That was different. We explained it. That was - that was a trip." He couldn't look over at Misha. "You get us both Father's Day cards," he said, grasping at straws.
"Uncle Jared takes me to Hallmark. Misha has never, ever called me his son. Because I'm not!" His chair tipped and fell on its side when he surged dramatically to his feet. "And I hate peas!"
"Harrison!" Jensen bellowed, but his little feet were already pounding down the hall to his room, and a moment later the door slammed. First ever slamming of the door, Jensen thought dully.
"I love peas," Misha said softly.
"Mish-"
"What? It's true, I have never introduced him as my son. I always say Jensen's son. My partner's offspring. The happy result of my boyfriend getting it on with a woman. The seismic event that convinced my lover he preferred cock." Misha drained his water like it was a shot of tequila and banged his glass on the table.
"Misha, he's nine years old. He didn't mean anything by it." Jensen tried to ignore that he was attempting to convince himself of the same thing. Now that they were finally circling what Jensen had been trying to talk about ever since Misha got back, he wanted nothing so much as to drop the subject.
"Didn't he? Out of the mouths of babes and all that?"
"Don't be stupid, you're his father-"
"Whose names are on his emergency contact sheet? Yours and Jared's?"
"Our names! Our names down as 'parents.' I thought that was what you wanted!"
"It is what I want!"
"Then fucking act like it!" Jensen cried. His butter knife cut a savage streak through the air as he gesticulated wildly, something Misha always did that he was picking up on, much to Jared's amusement.
"Like how? Like not going to India?" Misha's voice was deadly soft.
"I never said you couldn't go to India."
"True. You practically packed my bags for me. 'See ya, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.'"
"What?" Jensen gaped at him. How could he even think it? "You were all gung-ho about it! You said you needed to get away; you were being stifled here. How do you think that made me feel? I was miserable without you!"
"I was stifled by my job! You know that. We even talked about it when we weren't in bed. And if you were so damn miserable without me, why didn't you ask to come with me? If you wanted to be with me so badly, why didn't you say, 'Wait, and the three of us will go together?' Why did you send me by myself?" Misha's jaw clenched, his brows lowered, but Jensen could only stare at him. Had he, Jensen, had it wrong this whole time? Misha hadn't left them - he'd been pushed out?
"I thought you wanted to get away - not just from that shithole job. But from us," Jensen said slowly.
"Why would I ever want to get away from you?"
Jensen stared at him, dumbfounded. All he could think of were his faults, all the annoying things he did that Misha would never do.
"We're so different?"
"That's your reasoning? Really? We're so different?"
"Well I don't know! I don't like being away from you even though we're nothing alike."
"Uh huh. But I'm supposed to want to be away from you?"
"No!" Jensen ran a hand through his hair and brought it down over his face. Why was it so fucking hard to put this into words? He wrote for a living! But talking to Misha was a verbal mine field. "When did this get hard for us?" he asked, glancing away from Misha and out the window.
"I thought we were always hard."
"Mish-"
"Sorry." Misha sighed. "Relationships are hard work, right? That's what everyone says. I know I don't want to do it again."
Jensen's heart stopped. He stared out the window into the neighbors' back yard like his life depended on it.
"Jen. I meant - again. As in, some new relationship with someone else. I don't want that." Misha sounded anxious, not angry or sad or hurt like he had earlier in the evening. It calmed Jensen considerably, and he was finally able to look back at Misha.
"I'm sorry I didn't really listen to you about India. I'm such a fucking idiot."
Misha snorted. "No more so than me - I actually went!"
Jensen rose on unsteady feet and walked around the table to Misha's chair and hauled the other man to his feet. "You are Harrison's father. I should have insisted we escape together."
"Escape. I like that word."
"I thought you would." He took a deep breath. "I love you, you know."
Misha raised his hand and placed a sloppy kiss in the middle of Jensen's palm. "I do know that. I even believe it."
"I've been," Jensen paused for a breath, "I've been wanting to talk to you about this since you got back, but you kept shutting me down."
Misha rubbed his thumb over the place he'd just kissed. "Everything was so clear in India. Then I got back and you were - I thought I was doing you a favor by not talking about it. Let me be clear now: I want this. The three of us are a family."
"Good. That's exactly what I want." Jensen managed a shaky smile. "And now that we've talked about it, we can take a breather on all the talking!"
"Yes, my mono-syllabic partner-in-crime." Misha's arm encircled Jensen's waist and tugged, half pulling the other man into his personal space. "Just promise me before we make any life-altering decisions, we talk about them first. Novel concept."
"I think I can manage that." Jensen kissed him, slow and languid before a thought occurred to him. "We still need to go yell at our son for slamming his door."
***
Jensen woke up the next morning happier and better-rested than he'd been in months. Misha made Harrison's lunch that morning, Harrison's last full day of school for the year. He'd been contrite when they'd opened his door last night. Harrison had always loved Misha from the very first day they'd met, always been a bit breathless with joy in his presence. Jensen had stood in the doorway as they carried on a whispered conversation that seemed to include many mentions of characters from The Ninth Circle. Jensen wrote the damn thing and he couldn't tell what they were pulling out of it, but it seemed to work for them, if the hugs and "Good night, Dad! Good night, Pops!" was any indication.
Harrison had one more half-day of school on Wednesday, Thursday was his traditional First Day of Summer Vacation Fishing Trip with Jared, and then they would have the summer. Jensen had some ideas about that, plans that had vaguely started to coalesce after he and Misha had finally talked about India. So on Thursday morning after seeing Harrison off at a ridiculously early hour, Jensen sat down with his computer and pulled up several different websites. Misha puttered around him, pulling out various tubs for some kind of creative project while Jensen made some cost estimates and lists. He was just starting to get a cramp in his finger when his cell rang.
Genevieve liked a certain kind of cheese, sold by one particular cheese monger with a booth at the Farmers Market. Jensen listened patiently to her description of the cheese (and that was another thing about her pregnancy - she tended to ramble and not realize it; Jensen wondered how many conversations they'd had over the years that she'd cut off, and if she'd revert back to that after the baby arrived) and told her yes, of course he'd drive her.
"Mish!" he yelled after hanging up. "The Queen of All desires cheese. Care to come with?"
Misha looked up from where he was kneeling on the dining room table, ignoring the way Jensen's jaw twitched at the sight of bare feet in close proximity to where they ate. Where Jensen ate, more specifically.
"I could use some flowers for my project," he mused, and hopped off the table. Jensen barely caught a glimpse of brown paper, felt scraps and buttons spread across the table before Misha was sweeping it all up and dumping it into a plastic tub.
"Do I want to know?" Jensen wondered out loud.
"You'll love it!"
Misha bounced out of the passenger side seat when Jensen pulled up at Jared and Gen's house. Gen was already hurrying down the walk, cloth bag bouncing on her hip. She rolled a bit when she walked, a nearly imperceptible waddle, not that Jensen would ever be dumb enough to say that.
"You look absolutely ravishing today!" Misha greeted her.
"Yeah, let's just hurry. I'll have to pee again in ten minutes." She struggled with her seatbelt as Misha tucked her skirt safely into the car and shut the door. Jensen met his eyes in the rear view mirror as he quickly buckled his own seat belt. Misha's eyes danced with amusement. Jensen shook his head at him and reached across to gently take the seatbelt from Gen's hands and slide it smoothly into the buckle.
"Thanks," she muttered.
"So, Gen," Misha started, "what's with the craving for cheese? I thought cravings were just in the first trimester."
Jensen was tempted to reach back and pinch him.
"It's just really good cheese," she said with a frown. "And I don't need to be pregnant to crave this cheese. It's very popular."
"My mistake," Misha murmured.
"Besides, a lot of pregnancy cravings aren't for things like cheese, they're for, like, sweets or chips."
Jensen kept his mouth shut.
"Sorry," Gen mumbled after a moment. "I'm just so irritable lately. I don't know why."
"Maybe it's the extra poun-"
"Hey, you know what else they have at the farmers market!" Jensen interrupted, ignoring Misha's silently shaking shoulders in the backseat. "Flowers! Misha's got a thing for flowers."
"Really?" Gen craned her neck around to look at Misha. "What are you doing with flowers?" she asked suspiciously.
"I want to make Jensen a flower crown because he's the king of my heart," Misha answered with a straight face.
"And look at that, we're there!" Jensen had never been happier to pay an exorbitant amount for parking before in his life. Anything to stop the conversation.
Gen knew exactly where she wanted to go and marched them through the outskirts of the market to the cheese stalls in the center. Misha made motions like he was going to leave them to look at flowers, but Jensen was having none of it. No way was he facing this alone.
Ten minutes of haggling later, they were still in the first cheese stall.
"This is fascinating," Misha murmured to him, though Jensen thought he could have just as easily shouted. Gen and the cheese monger were completely focused on each other, the platter of samples between them like a chess board awaiting their next moves, Gruyere to Wensleydale, checkmate.
"If you say so," Jensen whispered back. "My foot's asleep. And aren't these prices already set?"
"Hush, love, you're ruining the mood," Misha chided him. "I'm so glad I waited to get the flowers. Gen's fucking golden!"
"Okay, gentlemen, we're done here," Gen interrupted him, licking her fingers. Jensen glanced at the sample tray. It was rather conspicuously empty. Gen tracked his eyes. "I saved you each one," she said, handing them each a napkin-wrapped morsel. "Now come on, I have to pee like a race horse."
She stepped over the threshold and stopped abruptly. "Oh my God!"
"What?" Jensen asked, mouth full of cheese. It really was quite good. He craned his neck to see over the top of Gen's head - nothing to cause an exclamation.
"Gen, you're standing in a puddle, careful where you step," Misha said, then gagged on his cheese. "Oh my God! Gen!"
"What? What?!" The other two sounded panicked, and Jensen still couldn't tell what the hell was going on. Gen was trembling like a leaf on the wind. If only she would move, Jensen could get around her and fix… whatever the hell was wrong.
"Her water just broke, Jen, stop shoving," Misha answered, abruptly snapping out of it. Jensen froze. This was mixed up, Jared should be here, they should have switched the fishing tradition this one time. Didn't they know the baby was coming today? No, wait, they hadn't. Gen had two more weeks.
"You have two more weeks!" Jensen exclaimed. "This can't be right!"
Misha looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Jensen. Genevieve's baby is coming now. You're going to get your shit together and drive us to the hospital. Now move your ass!"
Jensen moved. He had a mission, by God. No godchild of his was going to be born in a cheese stall. Which reminded him, he should probably talk to Jared about the whole godchild thing. He cupped his hands around his mouth and did his best Fezzik: "EVERYBODY MOVE!"
The five other people in the market looked at him curiously and went back to inspecting cheese and honey and deli meats. Misha sighed, slipped an arm around Gen's waist, seized her other hand, and hustled them out of the market.
"Misha, he's nuts, but he's right. This wasn't supposed to happen yet," Gen babbled. "I mean, I have laundry in the dryer, I haven't cleared the DVR, and Jared still hasn't been totally convinced that we can't name her Gertrude!"
Jensen winced, Gen's cloth bag full of cheese bouncing on his hip as they hurried to the car.
"Everything's going to be fine," Misha said. "Just, uh, don't get in yet." He reached into the footwell of the backseat and unearthed Harrison's Captain America beach towel and spread it out across the bench seat. "There we go; we'll be nice and cozy back here. Cap can take it."
Jensen's eyebrows rose as he helped Gen in after Misha. Cap certainly could not take it, but it was better than nothing. They peeled out of the parking lot, tires screeching.
"Try not to kill us all," Misha called from the backseat, cradling Gen awkwardly. Gen was panting and mumbling to herself, eyes wide.
"Right. Sorry." Jensen shook his head, trying to clear it of its fog. He had to concentrate. They were about twenty minutes from the hospital. Women in the movies always had their babies about two minutes after their water broke, but surely that was an exaggeration. Gen needed to have… contractions. Yes. Contractions.
"Have you had any contractions?" Jensen barked.
"I - I - I - I had false labor last week, and three days ago, and the doctor said it wasn't - oh my God, I can't believe this is happening, I can't believe Jared is off fucking fishing, it's going to take him two hours to get here, and yes, dammit I'm having a fucking contraction, Misha don't you dare let go of my hand, don't you dare leave me, I will hunt you down, I fucking mean it! Fuuuuuuuuuuck!"
Jensen tore his eyes away from the rearview mirror before they got into an accident. Well, that answered some things.
"Gen, honey, I'm not letting go of your hand, sweetheart, but I'm going to use my other to call your doctor and tell her we're going to be there in five, okay? Jensen's going to call Jared. It will be okay." Misha's voice was calm and firm, the same voice he used when he taught Harrison's class years ago. It didn't have quite the same effect on Gen as it had had on the kids.
"No, it's not going to fucking be okay," she snarled, but Misha had already fished out his phone and had managed to reach the hospital.
Jensen managed to fumble the hands-free on at a red light, hitting the button for Jared before the light changed and he was speeding, as much as he could in Los Angeles.
"Dude, you're disturbing the fish -" Jared's voice began, but Jensen cut him off.
"Baby's on her way!" Jensen yelled into the mic. "Get your ass to the hospital! Don't forget my son! Water broke and everything!"
"WHAT? WHAT?! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I SMELL LIKE FISH!"
"Jared Padalecki, I don't fucking care what you smell like, just GET HERE!" Gen yelled from the backseat.
The sign for the hospital shone like a beacon of light to the stranded sailor, or at least it seemed that way to Jensen.
"Jay! We're there now, hurry up!" Jensen barked into the phone.
"Pull up to the valet drop-off," Misha said calmly. "They're waiting for us."
Jensen spared him a glance. Misha was taking this great. Definitely better than Jensen was. "Dude, you make such a great dad," he said, his mouth forming the words before his brain caught up to them. He didn't care, though, not when Misha gave him a blinding grin.
"I'm going to be sick," Gen announced.
"Sorry," Jensen huffed, and eased on the brakes in the circular drive. An orderly was waiting with a wheelchair.
"No, I mean, I'm literally going to be sick," Gen said, kicking at the car door. Misha leaned over and pushed it open, and he and the orderly helped Gen into the chair. She was still clutching Misha's hand and dragged him right out behind her. "I'm not ready for this, Misha; you guys have Harrison and he's turned out great. What if I screw this up? What's the trick? How do you raise a kid? How do you fucking do it?"
"Gen." Misha crouched down in front of her, taking her other hand in his and squeezing them both. Jensen watched, his breath caught in his throat, paying no attention as the hospital staff ran over to park their car. He was focused on the tableau in front of him. "Listen to me. You may think you're not ready for this, but the trick is: no one is. That baby's coming, and she's going to turn your world around and make you act insane and fill you with the most joyful highs and scariest lows, and all you can do is take it as it comes. It's going to be amazing. I promise. I promise we'll be with you, every step of the way. Okay, sweetheart? You'll never have to do this alone."
"Okay," she said in a small voice. "You'll both come in with me, right?"
"Yeah," Jensen managed. It was the only sound he could make past the lump in his throat. How had he ever thought Misha didn't want to be part of their family anymore? Nothing could be further from the truth. It would be like trying to function without his heart beating in his chest, completely impossible.
"Uh, I should really wheel her in now," the orderly muttered, looking a bit embarrassed to be caught in the middle of their little scene.
"Just a minute," Gen said, shooting him a glare. She peeled one hand free from Misha and held it out for Jensen to grasp. "Okay. I'm ready now."
Coming in involved a lot more than what Jensen had envisioned. Gen's doctor met them pretty much at the door and began rattling off questions. A nurse joined them immediately and began checking vital signs. Jensen's head was swimming with all the information that was being thrown at them, but Misha nodded calmly, and Gen seemed to take her cue from him - at least until the doctor mentioned they might not be able to administer drugs depending on how late in the birthing process they were. Jensen took the ensuing freak-out as a good time to get an ETA from Jared.
"I'm driving as fast as I can!" Jared yelled when Jensen called, and Jensen could picture Harrison making a face as he held up the phone.
"Please tell me you're wearing seatbelts." Jensen sighed and massaged his temple with the hand that wasn't cradling the phone. Misha was waving him back over. "Listen, we're taking care of her, Misha especially. We're going to try to hold out for you as long as we can. Be safe."
Gen was a little calmer, but it was the calm of a prisoner on death row with no hope of a stay of execution. They were directed to what Jensen could only think of as a holding cell while a room was prepped for them. Gen kept up a low litany of foul language as Jensen and Misha quickly changed into the provided scrubs, booties and caps. Jensen's breath was coming faster. The somewhat stiff blue fabric truly signaled there was no turning back now. In just a few short minutes, he'd be with his best friend's wife as she gave birth. He was going to have to help Gen out of her clothes and into the hospital gown. Her lower half was already wet from the water breaking. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him until just that second that he was going to have to see Gen naked and in pain, and the thought briefly paralyzed him.
Misha saved him again, talking to Gen in a soothing voice, smoothing her hair back from her face and slipping the hospital gown on before helping her out of her clothes. Jensen swallowed hard. He needed to get a grip. If Misha hadn't come with them that morning, he and Gen would have fallen completely apart. It was not at all how he thought he would react to the birth; of course, he had always imagined that Jared would be in the room and he and Misha and Harrison would be in the waiting room, with pink bubble gum cigars proclaiming 'It's a Girl!'
His reverie was interrupted by Gen shrieking, and he was moving before he knew it, rushing to her side and gripping her hand as she screamed through the contraction. Jensen hit the timer on his watch.
Gen's doctor and a nurse came back in to measure her. Jensen averted his eyes. The shit women went through to give birth, it was a miracle the entire human race wasn't grown in test tubes by now. He tried for a reassuring smile and patted Gen's hand.
"What the fuck happened to your face?" Gen spit out.
"Uh-"
"Never mind, when is my fucking husband getting here?"
Before this day, Jensen had heard Gen say the f-word exactly twice.
"Um, he's still over an hour out," Jensen said hesitantly.
"You have time," the doctor announced. "I think it's going to be a close one, though. You're very lucky; I don't see this labor lasting more than three hours, tops."
Three hours? Three hours?! On a purely intellectual basis, Jensen agreed with the doctor - it seemed like every labor story he'd ever heard had involved around twenty-four hours of grunting and pushing and screaming, all the non-sexy kind. But with Gen right there, squeezing his hand and undergoing a complete personality overhaul, three hours might as well have been thirty.
Gen opened her mouth to rip the doctor a new one, but Misha cut her off. "You'll get to meet your daughter in less than three hours! That's fantastic, Gen!"
Gen's face crumpled. "It's fucking amazing!" she wailed. "Misha! Do you think she can hear me swearing? I don't want her first memories of me to all be - fuck! FUCK!"
Jensen was legitimately starting to be concerned for his hand.
"Breathe, breathe," Misha crooned, as if the vise grip Gen had on him didn't hurt a bit. Jensen shot him a baleful look, which Misha ignored, coaching Gen through another contraction. Jensen glanced down at his watch and angled his wrist so he could hit the time again. That was really soon after the last one. Dammit, why had he never picked up the copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting that Jared had left in their studio?
"Right, we're wheeling you into your room in five minutes. I'll see you in there." The doctor patted Gen on the shoulder and left to scrub in.
"Jensen," Gen panted, "when you tell Jared about this, will you leave out the fucking?"
Misha cracked up first, then Gen and finally Jensen joined in. Gen was wheeled into the OR, clutching their hands as the slightly hysterical sound of their laughter followed them in.
***
An hour later, Jensen had lost all feeling in his hand, Gen was close to hoarse, and sweat was dripping off the tip of Misha's nose, but the baby was getting ready to crown. The door swung open and Jared and Harrison stumbled in, skidding in their booties, wide-eyed and panting for breath. They wore blue hospital gowns over their clothes, evidence of their hurry, and smelled of fish and disinfectant.
"Jared," Gen rasped. "You're here."
"And we're a little crowded now, about to get even more so," the doctor said crisply. "One more good push."
Jensen glanced across at Misha. Misha was about to volunteer to step out. Well, fuck that. If anyone deserved to see that baby arrive, it was Misha.
"Jay, take my place. Harrison and I will wait just outside."
"But Dad, I wanted to see - oh my God." Harrison went white as a sheet, jerking his eyes away from Gen's stirruped lower half, and stumbled back out. Jensen could hear him retching in the antechamber.
"That's my cue," Jensen said, wresting his hand away and leaning down to kiss Gen's sweaty forehead. "You're doing great. We'll see you soon."
Misha gave him a wordless look, full of gratitude and affection.
"Thanks, man," Jared mumbled, lumbering over on shaky feet. "Oh, baby, you look so beautiful," he said to his wife. His hand completely engulfed hers.
Jensen shot them a fond smile and went to deal with his son. Harrison looked at him over the top of the hazardous waste bin in the antechamber.
"I'm sorry, Dad. That was really gross."
"It's only going to get worse," Jensen said. "You're lucky you missed the screaming."
Harrison's eyes grew as wide as saucers at the thought of his beloved Aunt Genevieve shrieking in pain.
"Come here, squirt." Harrison readily let himself get pulled into a hug. The car trip must have been even more stressful than Jensen thought. The sound of a muffled yell seeped through the door. "I missed this with you."
Harrison snorted into his chest. "You probably would have freaked out," he said, pulling his head back to look up at Jensen through his lashes. "Misha's better with this stuff."
"Really? You could tell that?" Jensen marveled down at his son. "Huh. Well, I'll tell you the truth - he handled this time way better than me. I totally freaked out."
They grinned goofily at each other a moment, and then a baby's wail split the silence. Father and son gasped and hurried to the door to peer in through the window. And thus they had an excellent view for the afterbirth a few moments later. Harrison barely made it back to his hazmat bin.
Madeleine Grace was born at 1:30 PM on a Thursday in June, and Jensen had never seen Jared grin broader. Gen gave everyone loopy smiles, finally on some pain meds, and let Misha hold the baby with a tearful, "I love you, man!" She sounded like Jared.
Jensen couldn't look away from Misha as he held the baby for the first time. Misha was captivated, transfixed, transported. The crinkles around his eyes, the smile lines around his mouth, the way his nose scrunched - everything bespoke of joy and wonder. It hit Jensen like a ton of bricks - here, in this room, was the family he had made for himself. Here was his future, cooing over a squalling baby, grinning like a loon and completely at home.
His eyes grew damp as he watched Jared help Misha place the baby in the cradle of Harrison's arms. Harrison held his breath as he stared down at the newborn.
"Mish," Jensen croaked out, and cleared his throat. Misha looked up and came over to him in the corner right away.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a concerned frown.
"Yeah. Yeah, I just…" He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Jared, Gen and Harrison were competing for goofiest look, uncaring that little Madeleine couldn't tell the difference at this point. "Our son's good with babies. But not with blood," he said the first thing that popped into his head.
Misha gave him a bemused look. "I'm okay if our son doesn't want to be a doctor."
Jensen nodded. Our son. "You know, I thought I'd be more prepared for this. The baby, I mean. But I lost my head. You didn't."
"Comes from having had so many professions," Misha said with a smile.
"Yeah." Jensen nodded. "I want to get married." Misha blinked. "This isn't just - oh, I saw you with a baby and now I want to go all domestic. We're already basically married. We even did the falling back in love every few years thing. It's just… I want us to go everywhere, together. I was just looking at, you know, family vacations and shit this morning. Everything's better with you there. And maybe it's very traditional of me and, I don't know, backwards or whatever, but-"
"Jensen." Misha laid a finger against his lips and Jensen finally stopped babbling. Dimly, he was aware the other three had stopped their baby-talk and were watching them, riveted. "I don't need a wedding, or a paper that says we're married. We're already married. We're already a family. But let's do it anyhow. It will be an adventure."
"I want to have lots of adventures." He couldn't stop smiling. Harrison whooped in excitement, Jared relieving him of Madeleine so he could leap up and give his dads tight hugs. Misha kissed him over the top of Harrison's head, and Jared flashed a thumb's up and huge grin. Jensen was glad he was already in a hospital because he was going to have a heart attack, whether from sugar shock or supreme happiness, he couldn't tell.
"Wow, you guys," Gen slurred. "That was so fucking sweet."
Jensen laughed and squeezed Misha's hand with the one Gen hadn't tried her best to break. It wouldn't always be this fucking sweet, he knew on good authority, but with Misha beside him and Harrison with them, not to mention Jared, Gen and now little Madeleine, it would always be an adventure worth having.
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/Characters: Jensen/Misha, Jared/Gen, OMC, cameos by Christian, Jason, Steve
Word Count: 11,850
Warning/Spoilers: This is an AU and very much did not happen. Equal parts angst, sex and cracky fluff. With a helping of cheese.
A/N: Written for the exceedingly patient cloudyjenn for, oh, I think it was to help Japan. This is a wicked late coda to A Multi-Panel Love Story -- best to read that first -- and is set about five years after the end of that one. Many thanks to paragraphs for the beta. Title is from Heather Nova's "Walk This World." There actually isn't a direct flight from Mumbai to LAX that I could see, but there should be. This was plotted out before any couples got pregnant, but this is completely AU. Most of the pregnancy stuff is based on my sister-in-law's pregnancies.
Part 1
Jensen remained convinced for the rest of the weekend and through Monday. He called Jared and said he'd like a day off the graphic novel for a mental health day and spent the entire time Harrison was in school in bed with Misha. He sat gingerly in his chair at dinner that night, his ass a little sore from the attention of Misha's tongue and cock, and tried to strike up a conversation with Harrison about his final week in the fourth grade.
Harrison was moody. It was a strange occurrence, and Jensen eyed him with a frown over the dinner table as Misha chatted about random things he'd seen during his dog-walking job. Normally Harrison loved hearing about the antics of the jack russell terrier or the rottweiler mix, but he just pushed his peas around his plate with his spoon. He didn't even perk up at the sight of biscuits.
"Harrison?" Misha asked at a break in his story. "You still with us, champ?"
Harrison shrugged and reached for his glass of milk. Jensen caught Misha's eye.
"Mr. Jim was out today, wasn't he? You like your sub?" he asked.
"Sub was stupid," Harrison muttered.
"Hey, now," Misha interjected. "It's a tough job. Cut him a little slack."
"Her," Harrison said, and surely he had not learned that biting tone of voice from them. "My sub's a girl sub. And she's stupid!"
"That's enough, Harrison!" Jensen barked. "You show adults a little respect. What'd she do to you? Tell us."
Harrison's eyes filled with tears. "She asked me if my mom had made my lunch."
Jensen's fingers stilled on his silverware. He had made Harrison's lunch, just as he had, all packed and labeled, every day since Harrison started first grade.
"I don't care I don't have a mom!" Harrison declared hotly. Jensen's heart swelled with pride even as it ached inside. "I have a dad and he's the best!"
Jensen took a steadying breath. "You have a Misha, too."
"Misha's not my dad," Harrison said, snorting and grabbing his milk again.
Misha made a low noise in the back of his throat and reached for his water as Jensen scowled at his son.
"Don't say that," he said in his most authoritative voice. Harrison's hand froze on his glass.
"Why?" he whispered. "He left us. Dads don't leave. You didn't leave."
"That was different. We explained it. That was - that was a trip." He couldn't look over at Misha. "You get us both Father's Day cards," he said, grasping at straws.
"Uncle Jared takes me to Hallmark. Misha has never, ever called me his son. Because I'm not!" His chair tipped and fell on its side when he surged dramatically to his feet. "And I hate peas!"
"Harrison!" Jensen bellowed, but his little feet were already pounding down the hall to his room, and a moment later the door slammed. First ever slamming of the door, Jensen thought dully.
"I love peas," Misha said softly.
"Mish-"
"What? It's true, I have never introduced him as my son. I always say Jensen's son. My partner's offspring. The happy result of my boyfriend getting it on with a woman. The seismic event that convinced my lover he preferred cock." Misha drained his water like it was a shot of tequila and banged his glass on the table.
"Misha, he's nine years old. He didn't mean anything by it." Jensen tried to ignore that he was attempting to convince himself of the same thing. Now that they were finally circling what Jensen had been trying to talk about ever since Misha got back, he wanted nothing so much as to drop the subject.
"Didn't he? Out of the mouths of babes and all that?"
"Don't be stupid, you're his father-"
"Whose names are on his emergency contact sheet? Yours and Jared's?"
"Our names! Our names down as 'parents.' I thought that was what you wanted!"
"It is what I want!"
"Then fucking act like it!" Jensen cried. His butter knife cut a savage streak through the air as he gesticulated wildly, something Misha always did that he was picking up on, much to Jared's amusement.
"Like how? Like not going to India?" Misha's voice was deadly soft.
"I never said you couldn't go to India."
"True. You practically packed my bags for me. 'See ya, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.'"
"What?" Jensen gaped at him. How could he even think it? "You were all gung-ho about it! You said you needed to get away; you were being stifled here. How do you think that made me feel? I was miserable without you!"
"I was stifled by my job! You know that. We even talked about it when we weren't in bed. And if you were so damn miserable without me, why didn't you ask to come with me? If you wanted to be with me so badly, why didn't you say, 'Wait, and the three of us will go together?' Why did you send me by myself?" Misha's jaw clenched, his brows lowered, but Jensen could only stare at him. Had he, Jensen, had it wrong this whole time? Misha hadn't left them - he'd been pushed out?
"I thought you wanted to get away - not just from that shithole job. But from us," Jensen said slowly.
"Why would I ever want to get away from you?"
Jensen stared at him, dumbfounded. All he could think of were his faults, all the annoying things he did that Misha would never do.
"We're so different?"
"That's your reasoning? Really? We're so different?"
"Well I don't know! I don't like being away from you even though we're nothing alike."
"Uh huh. But I'm supposed to want to be away from you?"
"No!" Jensen ran a hand through his hair and brought it down over his face. Why was it so fucking hard to put this into words? He wrote for a living! But talking to Misha was a verbal mine field. "When did this get hard for us?" he asked, glancing away from Misha and out the window.
"I thought we were always hard."
"Mish-"
"Sorry." Misha sighed. "Relationships are hard work, right? That's what everyone says. I know I don't want to do it again."
Jensen's heart stopped. He stared out the window into the neighbors' back yard like his life depended on it.
"Jen. I meant - again. As in, some new relationship with someone else. I don't want that." Misha sounded anxious, not angry or sad or hurt like he had earlier in the evening. It calmed Jensen considerably, and he was finally able to look back at Misha.
"I'm sorry I didn't really listen to you about India. I'm such a fucking idiot."
Misha snorted. "No more so than me - I actually went!"
Jensen rose on unsteady feet and walked around the table to Misha's chair and hauled the other man to his feet. "You are Harrison's father. I should have insisted we escape together."
"Escape. I like that word."
"I thought you would." He took a deep breath. "I love you, you know."
Misha raised his hand and placed a sloppy kiss in the middle of Jensen's palm. "I do know that. I even believe it."
"I've been," Jensen paused for a breath, "I've been wanting to talk to you about this since you got back, but you kept shutting me down."
Misha rubbed his thumb over the place he'd just kissed. "Everything was so clear in India. Then I got back and you were - I thought I was doing you a favor by not talking about it. Let me be clear now: I want this. The three of us are a family."
"Good. That's exactly what I want." Jensen managed a shaky smile. "And now that we've talked about it, we can take a breather on all the talking!"
"Yes, my mono-syllabic partner-in-crime." Misha's arm encircled Jensen's waist and tugged, half pulling the other man into his personal space. "Just promise me before we make any life-altering decisions, we talk about them first. Novel concept."
"I think I can manage that." Jensen kissed him, slow and languid before a thought occurred to him. "We still need to go yell at our son for slamming his door."
***
Jensen woke up the next morning happier and better-rested than he'd been in months. Misha made Harrison's lunch that morning, Harrison's last full day of school for the year. He'd been contrite when they'd opened his door last night. Harrison had always loved Misha from the very first day they'd met, always been a bit breathless with joy in his presence. Jensen had stood in the doorway as they carried on a whispered conversation that seemed to include many mentions of characters from The Ninth Circle. Jensen wrote the damn thing and he couldn't tell what they were pulling out of it, but it seemed to work for them, if the hugs and "Good night, Dad! Good night, Pops!" was any indication.
Harrison had one more half-day of school on Wednesday, Thursday was his traditional First Day of Summer Vacation Fishing Trip with Jared, and then they would have the summer. Jensen had some ideas about that, plans that had vaguely started to coalesce after he and Misha had finally talked about India. So on Thursday morning after seeing Harrison off at a ridiculously early hour, Jensen sat down with his computer and pulled up several different websites. Misha puttered around him, pulling out various tubs for some kind of creative project while Jensen made some cost estimates and lists. He was just starting to get a cramp in his finger when his cell rang.
Genevieve liked a certain kind of cheese, sold by one particular cheese monger with a booth at the Farmers Market. Jensen listened patiently to her description of the cheese (and that was another thing about her pregnancy - she tended to ramble and not realize it; Jensen wondered how many conversations they'd had over the years that she'd cut off, and if she'd revert back to that after the baby arrived) and told her yes, of course he'd drive her.
"Mish!" he yelled after hanging up. "The Queen of All desires cheese. Care to come with?"
Misha looked up from where he was kneeling on the dining room table, ignoring the way Jensen's jaw twitched at the sight of bare feet in close proximity to where they ate. Where Jensen ate, more specifically.
"I could use some flowers for my project," he mused, and hopped off the table. Jensen barely caught a glimpse of brown paper, felt scraps and buttons spread across the table before Misha was sweeping it all up and dumping it into a plastic tub.
"Do I want to know?" Jensen wondered out loud.
"You'll love it!"
Misha bounced out of the passenger side seat when Jensen pulled up at Jared and Gen's house. Gen was already hurrying down the walk, cloth bag bouncing on her hip. She rolled a bit when she walked, a nearly imperceptible waddle, not that Jensen would ever be dumb enough to say that.
"You look absolutely ravishing today!" Misha greeted her.
"Yeah, let's just hurry. I'll have to pee again in ten minutes." She struggled with her seatbelt as Misha tucked her skirt safely into the car and shut the door. Jensen met his eyes in the rear view mirror as he quickly buckled his own seat belt. Misha's eyes danced with amusement. Jensen shook his head at him and reached across to gently take the seatbelt from Gen's hands and slide it smoothly into the buckle.
"Thanks," she muttered.
"So, Gen," Misha started, "what's with the craving for cheese? I thought cravings were just in the first trimester."
Jensen was tempted to reach back and pinch him.
"It's just really good cheese," she said with a frown. "And I don't need to be pregnant to crave this cheese. It's very popular."
"My mistake," Misha murmured.
"Besides, a lot of pregnancy cravings aren't for things like cheese, they're for, like, sweets or chips."
Jensen kept his mouth shut.
"Sorry," Gen mumbled after a moment. "I'm just so irritable lately. I don't know why."
"Maybe it's the extra poun-"
"Hey, you know what else they have at the farmers market!" Jensen interrupted, ignoring Misha's silently shaking shoulders in the backseat. "Flowers! Misha's got a thing for flowers."
"Really?" Gen craned her neck around to look at Misha. "What are you doing with flowers?" she asked suspiciously.
"I want to make Jensen a flower crown because he's the king of my heart," Misha answered with a straight face.
"And look at that, we're there!" Jensen had never been happier to pay an exorbitant amount for parking before in his life. Anything to stop the conversation.
Gen knew exactly where she wanted to go and marched them through the outskirts of the market to the cheese stalls in the center. Misha made motions like he was going to leave them to look at flowers, but Jensen was having none of it. No way was he facing this alone.
Ten minutes of haggling later, they were still in the first cheese stall.
"This is fascinating," Misha murmured to him, though Jensen thought he could have just as easily shouted. Gen and the cheese monger were completely focused on each other, the platter of samples between them like a chess board awaiting their next moves, Gruyere to Wensleydale, checkmate.
"If you say so," Jensen whispered back. "My foot's asleep. And aren't these prices already set?"
"Hush, love, you're ruining the mood," Misha chided him. "I'm so glad I waited to get the flowers. Gen's fucking golden!"
"Okay, gentlemen, we're done here," Gen interrupted him, licking her fingers. Jensen glanced at the sample tray. It was rather conspicuously empty. Gen tracked his eyes. "I saved you each one," she said, handing them each a napkin-wrapped morsel. "Now come on, I have to pee like a race horse."
She stepped over the threshold and stopped abruptly. "Oh my God!"
"What?" Jensen asked, mouth full of cheese. It really was quite good. He craned his neck to see over the top of Gen's head - nothing to cause an exclamation.
"Gen, you're standing in a puddle, careful where you step," Misha said, then gagged on his cheese. "Oh my God! Gen!"
"What? What?!" The other two sounded panicked, and Jensen still couldn't tell what the hell was going on. Gen was trembling like a leaf on the wind. If only she would move, Jensen could get around her and fix… whatever the hell was wrong.
"Her water just broke, Jen, stop shoving," Misha answered, abruptly snapping out of it. Jensen froze. This was mixed up, Jared should be here, they should have switched the fishing tradition this one time. Didn't they know the baby was coming today? No, wait, they hadn't. Gen had two more weeks.
"You have two more weeks!" Jensen exclaimed. "This can't be right!"
Misha looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Jensen. Genevieve's baby is coming now. You're going to get your shit together and drive us to the hospital. Now move your ass!"
Jensen moved. He had a mission, by God. No godchild of his was going to be born in a cheese stall. Which reminded him, he should probably talk to Jared about the whole godchild thing. He cupped his hands around his mouth and did his best Fezzik: "EVERYBODY MOVE!"
The five other people in the market looked at him curiously and went back to inspecting cheese and honey and deli meats. Misha sighed, slipped an arm around Gen's waist, seized her other hand, and hustled them out of the market.
"Misha, he's nuts, but he's right. This wasn't supposed to happen yet," Gen babbled. "I mean, I have laundry in the dryer, I haven't cleared the DVR, and Jared still hasn't been totally convinced that we can't name her Gertrude!"
Jensen winced, Gen's cloth bag full of cheese bouncing on his hip as they hurried to the car.
"Everything's going to be fine," Misha said. "Just, uh, don't get in yet." He reached into the footwell of the backseat and unearthed Harrison's Captain America beach towel and spread it out across the bench seat. "There we go; we'll be nice and cozy back here. Cap can take it."
Jensen's eyebrows rose as he helped Gen in after Misha. Cap certainly could not take it, but it was better than nothing. They peeled out of the parking lot, tires screeching.
"Try not to kill us all," Misha called from the backseat, cradling Gen awkwardly. Gen was panting and mumbling to herself, eyes wide.
"Right. Sorry." Jensen shook his head, trying to clear it of its fog. He had to concentrate. They were about twenty minutes from the hospital. Women in the movies always had their babies about two minutes after their water broke, but surely that was an exaggeration. Gen needed to have… contractions. Yes. Contractions.
"Have you had any contractions?" Jensen barked.
"I - I - I - I had false labor last week, and three days ago, and the doctor said it wasn't - oh my God, I can't believe this is happening, I can't believe Jared is off fucking fishing, it's going to take him two hours to get here, and yes, dammit I'm having a fucking contraction, Misha don't you dare let go of my hand, don't you dare leave me, I will hunt you down, I fucking mean it! Fuuuuuuuuuuck!"
Jensen tore his eyes away from the rearview mirror before they got into an accident. Well, that answered some things.
"Gen, honey, I'm not letting go of your hand, sweetheart, but I'm going to use my other to call your doctor and tell her we're going to be there in five, okay? Jensen's going to call Jared. It will be okay." Misha's voice was calm and firm, the same voice he used when he taught Harrison's class years ago. It didn't have quite the same effect on Gen as it had had on the kids.
"No, it's not going to fucking be okay," she snarled, but Misha had already fished out his phone and had managed to reach the hospital.
Jensen managed to fumble the hands-free on at a red light, hitting the button for Jared before the light changed and he was speeding, as much as he could in Los Angeles.
"Dude, you're disturbing the fish -" Jared's voice began, but Jensen cut him off.
"Baby's on her way!" Jensen yelled into the mic. "Get your ass to the hospital! Don't forget my son! Water broke and everything!"
"WHAT? WHAT?! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! I SMELL LIKE FISH!"
"Jared Padalecki, I don't fucking care what you smell like, just GET HERE!" Gen yelled from the backseat.
The sign for the hospital shone like a beacon of light to the stranded sailor, or at least it seemed that way to Jensen.
"Jay! We're there now, hurry up!" Jensen barked into the phone.
"Pull up to the valet drop-off," Misha said calmly. "They're waiting for us."
Jensen spared him a glance. Misha was taking this great. Definitely better than Jensen was. "Dude, you make such a great dad," he said, his mouth forming the words before his brain caught up to them. He didn't care, though, not when Misha gave him a blinding grin.
"I'm going to be sick," Gen announced.
"Sorry," Jensen huffed, and eased on the brakes in the circular drive. An orderly was waiting with a wheelchair.
"No, I mean, I'm literally going to be sick," Gen said, kicking at the car door. Misha leaned over and pushed it open, and he and the orderly helped Gen into the chair. She was still clutching Misha's hand and dragged him right out behind her. "I'm not ready for this, Misha; you guys have Harrison and he's turned out great. What if I screw this up? What's the trick? How do you raise a kid? How do you fucking do it?"
"Gen." Misha crouched down in front of her, taking her other hand in his and squeezing them both. Jensen watched, his breath caught in his throat, paying no attention as the hospital staff ran over to park their car. He was focused on the tableau in front of him. "Listen to me. You may think you're not ready for this, but the trick is: no one is. That baby's coming, and she's going to turn your world around and make you act insane and fill you with the most joyful highs and scariest lows, and all you can do is take it as it comes. It's going to be amazing. I promise. I promise we'll be with you, every step of the way. Okay, sweetheart? You'll never have to do this alone."
"Okay," she said in a small voice. "You'll both come in with me, right?"
"Yeah," Jensen managed. It was the only sound he could make past the lump in his throat. How had he ever thought Misha didn't want to be part of their family anymore? Nothing could be further from the truth. It would be like trying to function without his heart beating in his chest, completely impossible.
"Uh, I should really wheel her in now," the orderly muttered, looking a bit embarrassed to be caught in the middle of their little scene.
"Just a minute," Gen said, shooting him a glare. She peeled one hand free from Misha and held it out for Jensen to grasp. "Okay. I'm ready now."
Coming in involved a lot more than what Jensen had envisioned. Gen's doctor met them pretty much at the door and began rattling off questions. A nurse joined them immediately and began checking vital signs. Jensen's head was swimming with all the information that was being thrown at them, but Misha nodded calmly, and Gen seemed to take her cue from him - at least until the doctor mentioned they might not be able to administer drugs depending on how late in the birthing process they were. Jensen took the ensuing freak-out as a good time to get an ETA from Jared.
"I'm driving as fast as I can!" Jared yelled when Jensen called, and Jensen could picture Harrison making a face as he held up the phone.
"Please tell me you're wearing seatbelts." Jensen sighed and massaged his temple with the hand that wasn't cradling the phone. Misha was waving him back over. "Listen, we're taking care of her, Misha especially. We're going to try to hold out for you as long as we can. Be safe."
Gen was a little calmer, but it was the calm of a prisoner on death row with no hope of a stay of execution. They were directed to what Jensen could only think of as a holding cell while a room was prepped for them. Gen kept up a low litany of foul language as Jensen and Misha quickly changed into the provided scrubs, booties and caps. Jensen's breath was coming faster. The somewhat stiff blue fabric truly signaled there was no turning back now. In just a few short minutes, he'd be with his best friend's wife as she gave birth. He was going to have to help Gen out of her clothes and into the hospital gown. Her lower half was already wet from the water breaking. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to him until just that second that he was going to have to see Gen naked and in pain, and the thought briefly paralyzed him.
Misha saved him again, talking to Gen in a soothing voice, smoothing her hair back from her face and slipping the hospital gown on before helping her out of her clothes. Jensen swallowed hard. He needed to get a grip. If Misha hadn't come with them that morning, he and Gen would have fallen completely apart. It was not at all how he thought he would react to the birth; of course, he had always imagined that Jared would be in the room and he and Misha and Harrison would be in the waiting room, with pink bubble gum cigars proclaiming 'It's a Girl!'
His reverie was interrupted by Gen shrieking, and he was moving before he knew it, rushing to her side and gripping her hand as she screamed through the contraction. Jensen hit the timer on his watch.
Gen's doctor and a nurse came back in to measure her. Jensen averted his eyes. The shit women went through to give birth, it was a miracle the entire human race wasn't grown in test tubes by now. He tried for a reassuring smile and patted Gen's hand.
"What the fuck happened to your face?" Gen spit out.
"Uh-"
"Never mind, when is my fucking husband getting here?"
Before this day, Jensen had heard Gen say the f-word exactly twice.
"Um, he's still over an hour out," Jensen said hesitantly.
"You have time," the doctor announced. "I think it's going to be a close one, though. You're very lucky; I don't see this labor lasting more than three hours, tops."
Three hours? Three hours?! On a purely intellectual basis, Jensen agreed with the doctor - it seemed like every labor story he'd ever heard had involved around twenty-four hours of grunting and pushing and screaming, all the non-sexy kind. But with Gen right there, squeezing his hand and undergoing a complete personality overhaul, three hours might as well have been thirty.
Gen opened her mouth to rip the doctor a new one, but Misha cut her off. "You'll get to meet your daughter in less than three hours! That's fantastic, Gen!"
Gen's face crumpled. "It's fucking amazing!" she wailed. "Misha! Do you think she can hear me swearing? I don't want her first memories of me to all be - fuck! FUCK!"
Jensen was legitimately starting to be concerned for his hand.
"Breathe, breathe," Misha crooned, as if the vise grip Gen had on him didn't hurt a bit. Jensen shot him a baleful look, which Misha ignored, coaching Gen through another contraction. Jensen glanced down at his watch and angled his wrist so he could hit the time again. That was really soon after the last one. Dammit, why had he never picked up the copy of What To Expect When You're Expecting that Jared had left in their studio?
"Right, we're wheeling you into your room in five minutes. I'll see you in there." The doctor patted Gen on the shoulder and left to scrub in.
"Jensen," Gen panted, "when you tell Jared about this, will you leave out the fucking?"
Misha cracked up first, then Gen and finally Jensen joined in. Gen was wheeled into the OR, clutching their hands as the slightly hysterical sound of their laughter followed them in.
***
An hour later, Jensen had lost all feeling in his hand, Gen was close to hoarse, and sweat was dripping off the tip of Misha's nose, but the baby was getting ready to crown. The door swung open and Jared and Harrison stumbled in, skidding in their booties, wide-eyed and panting for breath. They wore blue hospital gowns over their clothes, evidence of their hurry, and smelled of fish and disinfectant.
"Jared," Gen rasped. "You're here."
"And we're a little crowded now, about to get even more so," the doctor said crisply. "One more good push."
Jensen glanced across at Misha. Misha was about to volunteer to step out. Well, fuck that. If anyone deserved to see that baby arrive, it was Misha.
"Jay, take my place. Harrison and I will wait just outside."
"But Dad, I wanted to see - oh my God." Harrison went white as a sheet, jerking his eyes away from Gen's stirruped lower half, and stumbled back out. Jensen could hear him retching in the antechamber.
"That's my cue," Jensen said, wresting his hand away and leaning down to kiss Gen's sweaty forehead. "You're doing great. We'll see you soon."
Misha gave him a wordless look, full of gratitude and affection.
"Thanks, man," Jared mumbled, lumbering over on shaky feet. "Oh, baby, you look so beautiful," he said to his wife. His hand completely engulfed hers.
Jensen shot them a fond smile and went to deal with his son. Harrison looked at him over the top of the hazardous waste bin in the antechamber.
"I'm sorry, Dad. That was really gross."
"It's only going to get worse," Jensen said. "You're lucky you missed the screaming."
Harrison's eyes grew as wide as saucers at the thought of his beloved Aunt Genevieve shrieking in pain.
"Come here, squirt." Harrison readily let himself get pulled into a hug. The car trip must have been even more stressful than Jensen thought. The sound of a muffled yell seeped through the door. "I missed this with you."
Harrison snorted into his chest. "You probably would have freaked out," he said, pulling his head back to look up at Jensen through his lashes. "Misha's better with this stuff."
"Really? You could tell that?" Jensen marveled down at his son. "Huh. Well, I'll tell you the truth - he handled this time way better than me. I totally freaked out."
They grinned goofily at each other a moment, and then a baby's wail split the silence. Father and son gasped and hurried to the door to peer in through the window. And thus they had an excellent view for the afterbirth a few moments later. Harrison barely made it back to his hazmat bin.
Madeleine Grace was born at 1:30 PM on a Thursday in June, and Jensen had never seen Jared grin broader. Gen gave everyone loopy smiles, finally on some pain meds, and let Misha hold the baby with a tearful, "I love you, man!" She sounded like Jared.
Jensen couldn't look away from Misha as he held the baby for the first time. Misha was captivated, transfixed, transported. The crinkles around his eyes, the smile lines around his mouth, the way his nose scrunched - everything bespoke of joy and wonder. It hit Jensen like a ton of bricks - here, in this room, was the family he had made for himself. Here was his future, cooing over a squalling baby, grinning like a loon and completely at home.
His eyes grew damp as he watched Jared help Misha place the baby in the cradle of Harrison's arms. Harrison held his breath as he stared down at the newborn.
"Mish," Jensen croaked out, and cleared his throat. Misha looked up and came over to him in the corner right away.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a concerned frown.
"Yeah. Yeah, I just…" He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Jared, Gen and Harrison were competing for goofiest look, uncaring that little Madeleine couldn't tell the difference at this point. "Our son's good with babies. But not with blood," he said the first thing that popped into his head.
Misha gave him a bemused look. "I'm okay if our son doesn't want to be a doctor."
Jensen nodded. Our son. "You know, I thought I'd be more prepared for this. The baby, I mean. But I lost my head. You didn't."
"Comes from having had so many professions," Misha said with a smile.
"Yeah." Jensen nodded. "I want to get married." Misha blinked. "This isn't just - oh, I saw you with a baby and now I want to go all domestic. We're already basically married. We even did the falling back in love every few years thing. It's just… I want us to go everywhere, together. I was just looking at, you know, family vacations and shit this morning. Everything's better with you there. And maybe it's very traditional of me and, I don't know, backwards or whatever, but-"
"Jensen." Misha laid a finger against his lips and Jensen finally stopped babbling. Dimly, he was aware the other three had stopped their baby-talk and were watching them, riveted. "I don't need a wedding, or a paper that says we're married. We're already married. We're already a family. But let's do it anyhow. It will be an adventure."
"I want to have lots of adventures." He couldn't stop smiling. Harrison whooped in excitement, Jared relieving him of Madeleine so he could leap up and give his dads tight hugs. Misha kissed him over the top of Harrison's head, and Jared flashed a thumb's up and huge grin. Jensen was glad he was already in a hospital because he was going to have a heart attack, whether from sugar shock or supreme happiness, he couldn't tell.
"Wow, you guys," Gen slurred. "That was so fucking sweet."
Jensen laughed and squeezed Misha's hand with the one Gen hadn't tried her best to break. It wouldn't always be this fucking sweet, he knew on good authority, but with Misha beside him and Harrison with them, not to mention Jared, Gen and now little Madeleine, it would always be an adventure worth having.