RPF: The Beggar Shan't Have'e- James McAvoy/Michael Fassbender- Part Four
Warnings: mpreg, language, threat to character life. Trigger warning for distorted body image.
The Beggar Shan't Have'e: Part Four
James is sitting with Sara in a fortress made of duvets and pillows, watching Disney movies, eating cream cheese and blueberries on toast.
Michael is out with Joshua, buying a toy baby doll, at James' suggestion, so that Joshua can get used to holding and cuddling a baby, learning to be gentle with it. Michael isn't so sure how much it'll do at this stage, with the real baby only a few months away from being born, but he's heard it done, it sounds like a cute idea and Joshua is all for it, so he's happy to do it. They've been gone for a couple of hours, so James expects them home soon, but is happy alone with Sara right now.
She's getting frustrated at the movie. They're watching Beauty and the Beast, and the ignorance and prejudice of the villagers puzzles and annoys her. James gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and whilst he's proud at her reaction, it also makes him a little sad that it's very much a world they face. She turns around to look at him.
"They're not very nice people, Daddy," she says crossly.
"No, they're not. But who do you think will win in the end?" he asks amusedly. She's seen this film multiple times. Her face brightens.
"The Beast! And Belle!" she smiles.
"Who's your favourite character in this?"
"Beast. But Beast in X-Men is better because he's blue, and I like the colour blue." Sara is looking at James' tummy, and he knows she'll have lost all interest in the film now. "Is the baby kicking, Daddy?" she asks.
"Not right now, lovely," James says, "Maybe if you give my belly a rub the baby will feel it."
"You're like Aladdin's lamp," Sara tells him. James pulls a face.
"Er, thanks?"
"You're welcome," she says brightly. She puts her little hands on the bump and rubs in two small circles. James smiles at the feeling, and Sara giggles. "Does it tickle, Daddy?"
"Not exactly," James replies, "It's more tingly. But it's good, it's nice. Oof-" He puts a hand on his stomach, just above where Sara's hand is, "We got a kick there, Sara, feel there-" She moves her hand and squeaks at the kicking against her palm. She looks up, hearing the front door open.
"Papa!" she says, wriggling out of she and James' fort and scrambling off the bed. James follows suit, a little slower than his daughter. He is half way down the stairs when Michael clocks him, grins, and comes up to help him the rest of the way down. Joshua is telling Sara all about the doll, who is apparently called Roger, which makes James laugh. Michael nestles James' neck, and sniffs.
"Your breath smells really nice," he comments, "What have you been eating?"
"Umm. Cream cheese. And blueberries."
Michael raises his eyebrows.
"That's an interesting one. That a new craving?" James looks a bit bashful.
"It isn't exactly new."
"Then why is it the first I've heard of it?" Michael asks.
"I just haven't told you about it…" James says, embarrassed, "I can eat a quarter of a tub of Philadelphia cream cheese with a spoon in one sitting. It's awful." Michael laughs.
"You need to stop being so bashful, James. I love these little things, okay?" he says, putting his hands on the bump, "If the baby makes you want cream cheese by the bucketful, that's fine with me, okay?"
"Okay," James smiles, leaning up to kiss Michael on the lips.
* * *
“I’m so fat,” James moans, putting a scotch pancake into his mouth. Michael can’t help but grin and raise an eyebrow at the contradiction between James’ words and his action. James pouts, his cheeks full of food. “I’m hungry! And when I’m hungry I’m beyond caring. You see me in ten minutes, I’ll be crying.”
“Please don’t cry, baby. You’re too beautiful to cry.”
James sighs, running his hand over the bump and then coming to rest above his hip. He squeezes the flesh he has there.
“I have definite love handles,” He complains, ”Probably could have avoided that if I’d been a little more controlled with my cravings.”
”That’s the point of cravings, silly, that you can’t be controlled with them,” Michael tuts. He wraps his hands around James’ softened waist. ”Love handles is an apt name. You have them because of our love: because of comfort, contentedness, and the children; and I love them, because they’re yours. Gorgeous husband.”
”You have to stop being so wonderful.” James tells him gravely.
”Never.”
* * *
James scarcely remembers a time he last woke up so comfortably. He awakes slowly, his only cues that the new day has begun is the sunlight gently lapping his skin, and the feeling of Michael’s steady breathing.
He smiles sleepily but amusedly, when he realises where Michael is. He is hugging James’ knees, his cheek against James’ tummy. He is awake.
”Hey,” James chuckles, ”What are you doing down there?”
”Saying good morning to our baby,” Michael replies, kissing James’ popped-out belly button, and then facing the bump, ”Hello, precious one.”
James just smiles dozily, his hand in Michael’s hair.
* * *
It is a few weeks before James' due date that he unexpectedly forms a bond with none other than Jude Law. Michael is so incredibly enamoured with the recent changes in James' body: and how he's soft and sensual and feminine, the curviness of his hips and his bright pink lips, and his hair is growing a bit long and the bump is huge and swollen with life: but at the same time he has muscly arms and his stubbly, ginger beard and is keeping hold of all his masculinity. Michael loves the mixing of the two, James challenging the gender ideas of what a pregnant person should be.
James is sitting on the sofa in pyjamas pants and an X-Men t-shirt, size large, eating more cream cheese, this time on bagels, leaning against Michael, whose arms are around his waist. They're channel-hopping, and eventually settle on The One Show. After a while, it moves to the interviewing of the star they have in the studio: and it's Jude. Michael feels James tense against him, so he slides his hands on the bump and starts to rub soothingly. James doesn't request that they change the channel.
Another surprise pops up in just a few moments: some photos and footage of James himself, at an awards event that he and Michael attended about two weeks ago. James had still been able to fit into his specially altered suit, so had gone in that, and been polite and graceful and not gotten angry at any impertinent interviewers, despite wanting to. They are discussing the actors who attended, the awards won, and of course, what people were wearing. The come back to James again, and the female host laughs.
"Oh dear; perhaps if James McAvoy is so intent on being a mother he ought to rethink that beard."
James groans, but Michael shushes and points: Jude is frowning.
"Can I ask why?" Jude says.
"Well! It's not really very feminine, is it? If he wants to be taken seriously as a mother, he really ought to shave it off."
"I'm going to disagree with you on that," Jude says curtly, "I think that he looks fantastic, and he shouldn't have to conform to what anyone thinks about gender. I know for a fact that he and Michael are fantastic parents, and I wish them every luck in the future." Jude then raises his eyebrows straight at the camera, as if he knows James is watching, as if to say, I've got your back.
James can't help but beam for the rest of the evening.
* * *
James is sitting in the bath, the warm bubbly water lapping gently up against the bump. He rubs the soap slowly into his skin, then shuts his eyes and sinks down into the water to wash his hair. It fans around his head, making him looking like a merman. He rises a little and opens his eyes to look at his stomach. It curves way out in front of him, because he's nearly to term now. His skin isn't as stressed or sore as it had been with Sara, and though his stretch marks have come back, they're a paler pink and they don't really bother him; Michael sees to that. He sits up in the water as there's a tapping at the door.
"Yeah?"
"Can I come in?" Michael asks.
"Of course," James replies, pushing his wet hair back out of his face. The door opens and Michael comes in, smiling.
"Good evening," he says to James.
"Hi," James replies happily, rubbing soap suds off the bump. Michael sits down on the toilet lid.
"How are you?"
"I'm good. I forgot how stress-relieving baths are. Baba was kicking like a pro fifa player, I thought if I was calm, they might fall asleep."
"And have they?" Michael asks, reaching out a hand and resting it on James' wet tummy. James grins, putting both his hands over Michael's.
"Yeah, I think so. They turned around a bit- sorry you missed that, I know you love it when they do that creepy turning thing that makes my tummy change shape- and now they're still."
"It's not creepy, it's beautiful!"
"Oh god, are you kidding me? It's gross, it's like Alien!"
Michael pulls a face.
"I was IN Alien."
"You're a liar. Prometheus is not Alien and you know it."
"Hey, I'm John Hurt, let me dream."
"And I'm Sigourney Weaver."
Michael leans forward and takes hold of James' arms, to stare into his eyes.
"You meant you're not? Sigourney, have our whole lives been a lie?!"
James turns his head to one side dramatically.
"I'm so sorry! Say you forgive me!"
Michael bursts out laughing and kisses James hard. James smiles into the kiss, then sighs.
"Rub my tummy, Michael," he requests. Michael obliges, kneeling by the bath and rubbing both his hands around James' belly.
"Not long now, James," he whispers.
James shuts his eyes, utterly content.
* * *
James and Michael are sitting at the dinner table with Sara and Joshua when James suddenly grabs his stomach.
"Ow! Oh, God, okay. Ow ow ow."
Michael gets to his feet.
"James? Do we need to go?"
"Oooft," James winces, "Yes, please."
"Sara, remember what we asked you to do?" Michael asks his daughter swirly.
"Get me and Josh's coats and shoes and sit patiently until you're ready."
"Yes, wonderful," Michael says, slipping his arms around James and helping him to his fight, "Go on, then."
Sara helps Joshua down from his chair and they dash off together, Josh cradling Roger carefully, like he's learnt. James grits his teeth, breathing through his nose, his eyes set on one point.
"It really hurts," he groans, leaning against Michael's shoulder as they walk to the front door.
"It's okay, darling, it'll be okay," Michael reassures him, "We'll get you to the car, I'll grab your bag and we'll be there soon, okay? And on the bright side, at least--" he was about to make a joke about his own labour, but decides that now isn't the right time. He helps James manoeuvre down the steps outside their door, pulling the car keys from his pocket and unlocking the doors from a distance. Once James is in his seat, breathing heavily with both his hands on his stomach, Michael dashes back up the house, grabs James' pre-packed shoulder bag, puts Joshua on his shoulders and beckons Sara along. Sara and Joshua are very quiet on the journey; Joshua is probably just tired, but Michael thinks that Sara is still able to remember when her Papa had his baby, and she's frightened for her Daddy.
Michael has his phone hooked up to be hands-free through the car speakers, so calls Lesley, Jennifer and James' mother in quick succession. Lesley is waiting at the hospital. By then James' pain has lessened a little, until the next wave of them, so he is able to walk (with a little assistance) to his private room. He is changed into the hospital gown and settled in the bed, and Jennifer arrives and takes the children from Michael, so he can sit by James' bed and hold his hand.
It seems as though everything is going to be fine, and Michael thanks some invisible person or thing. But, he realises through his tears later; he spoke to soon.
* * *
Baby McAvoy-Fassbender, as yet unnamed, is born with her umbilical cord looped multiple times around her neck, with bruises on her face and head from her awkward position within James and her attempts to exit before the caesarean, her skin blue-ish and her weight and body temperature below average. The midwife wraps her in a blanket and places her in incubator, and James cries and swears and asks why they can't just have a fucking healthy baby, for fuck's sake, he's so useless he can't even do things right when someone's cutting his stomach open and doing the birthing for him.
They don't really know what's wrong with her, but she's very weak. She doesn't cry. That's the most haunting thing. James was physically fine after the operation, but has made himself ill now with worrying. He and Michael are offered beds in the hospital. They kiss Sara and Joshua goodbye as they go home with Jennifer, Joshua wailing because he wants to hold the baby, but he can't. Sara is quiet. Michael knows that deep down, Sara never believed it'd be okay.
It's been four days now. Michael sits, as though standing guard, by the incubator every night and holds out his finger to the palm of her hand, hoping she'll grasp it, but she never does. She makes no improvement. Lesley tells James and Michael solemnly that everyone that can be done has been; and the baby tried, but she is so very weak, they need to say goodbye. She leaves them alone with their daughter.
Michael picks the baby up and cradles her in his arms, rocking her gently.
"Hello, my beautiful little girl," he says tearfully. James' grip on his arm tightens. "My lovely daughter… I'm going to sing to you. Your fathers are here. No one is going to take you from us, understand?" He takes a shallow breath, and then sings, his voice wavering. "Hush-a-bye baby, the beggar shan't have'e, nor more shall the maggoty pie… the rook nor the raven shan't take'e to Heaven, so hush-a-bye baby, bye bye…" His breath catches over the words "bye bye", but he continues, "Hush-a-bye baby, bye bye."
The child's little chest rises, then falls. A second passes. And then another. Her chest hasn't risen again.
"No!" James sobs, "No!"
The tears begin to trickle down Michael's face. His entire body shakes as he lowers his mouth to her, to kiss her forehead. As his shuddering breath brushes against her still face, a flicker of movement passes across her features. He freezes, not daring to believe. James is crying desperately, his eyes tight shut. They snap open to show his cobalt eyes swimming and startled, at the sound of a little gasp. It is followed by coughing, and Michael scrabbling to hold the baby so that she can breathe better as she struggles for air.
"Oh my God," James chokes, "Oh my God, Michael, please--"
"Doctor!" Michael yells, holding the girl with her head just over his shoulder, keeping her upright. She is definitely breathing now; she takes a deep breath and begins to scream, making loud shrieking cries, like a baby is meant to. Lesley, the midwife and another doctor all spill into the room to examine the baby. Michael gives her another kiss and then hands her over to Lesley, who is more stunned than she is letting show, and begins to examine her, all whilst assuring she can still breathe. Michael and James collapse into one another's arms, clinging close.
* * *
Michael is in the hospital bed with James, and they are cradling the baby between them. The doctors wanted to keep her in for a short while for observation, but she looks much healthier now; her skin is bright and warm, she guzzles eagerly when her fathers bottle-feed her, she's gaining weight. They're going home tomorrow; James longs for the familiarity of the walls, and the comfort of his own bed.
"She needs a name," Michael says softly. James nods.
"I had an idea. You might think it's a little silly."
"No, I won't. Tell me."
"Okay… there's an ancient African legend that lion cubs were born dead, and had their life breathed into them by their father." He shakes his head, smiling, "When you held her… it was almost like that. So I though we could call her… Aria. Hebrew for lion."
"Aria," Michael agrees, kissing first James', then Aria's forehead.
* * *
James is in front of the mirror, in his underwear. He runs his hands across his stomach, flesh left softened, skin stretched, caesarean scar still pink. Michael comes up silently behind him, and rests his chin on his husband's shoulder.
"Are you okay?" Michael asks gently.
"Yes," James replies, "I… it's strange."
"What's strange? Talk to me about it."
"Well… I feel fine. About my body. I feel good, even."
Michael cannot stop the grin from spreading across his face.
"Really?"
"Yes. I've been… I've been thinking about Aria, and how thankful I am that she's alive, and that's she's healthy. And she will love us, both of us, no matter what we look like, right?"
"Right," Michael affirms.
"Our beautiful children will never care about my weight. They'll love me whatever my body is like."
"Yes," Michael murmurs by James' ear.
"Then I love myself, too. If it's good enough for Sara, Joshua and Aria McAvoy-Fassbender, then it's certainly good enough for me."
Michael smiles, and kisses James' neck softly. James' eyes flutter shut as he feels his husband's smile against his skin; and James turns around to take Michael's face into his hands, and kiss him passionately.
* * *
The next year or so is wonderful for James and Michael. When Aria is about two months old, Jennifer calls James in gleeful hysterics.
"James!" she shrieks, "I got it! I got the part!"
"Wait, slow down, which part?"
"In Ariel! I'm going to play Sylvia Plath!"
"Oh my God, Jenn! That's wonderful!"
"I know! Fuck! I nearly peed myself when I got the call!"
And James starts laughing at that, because she's still Jennifer, still that wonderful girl he met filming X-Men: First Class all those years ago.
"James, let me take you out to dinner. You, Michael, the kids, all of you. You're my best friend and I want to celebrate with you."
"I love you," James trills down the phone.
"Looking like this?" she replies playfully. It's an old routine now.
"What, blue?"
"I love you," Jennifer tells him.
"I love you too," he replies, then has the phone quickly snatched from his hand by Michael.
"What harlet are you, stealing the love of my husband?" he demands.
"It's me, Erik, I'm sorry, but Charles is mine!"
"He's your brother, you sicko."
"Like you didn't have a problem with getting me to turn into him for you sometimes."
"Hush, Raven!" Michael trails off, laughing, "How are you, Jenn?" He looks at James, who mouths that she got her part, "You got the part?!"
"Yes! I just asked James out to celebrate. You too. And your sprogs."
"Sounds delightful," Michael chuckles, "When shall we see you?"
A few months after that, Michael gets a text from Ian. It reads,
“Patrick and I got a telephone call today. Two words. Those words are ‘X-Men’ and ‘Four’.”
Michael is gobsmacked
“No way.” he texts back immediately.
“Yes, way.” The reply comes back.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“My fucking sentiments exactly, Michael.”
A little while after, Michael does a photoshoot which stirs up a controversy. In one photograph, Michael wears tight, dark denim jeans and an equally fitted grey t-shirt, pulled up to expose his toned stomach.His skin is glistening, as though oiled or slick with sweat, his arms held up behind his head, his biceps bulging. He stares straight into the camera, mouth slightly open, eyes steel. The photo, irrefutably, is typically sexy. But it is the main focus of the photo that makes it interesting. The prominent scar at the bottom of his stomach cannot be missed, dark and striking. The eye is immediately drawn to it. There is no caption, no explanation: the photo is thrown out there, challenging the world to find Michael's body, and it's obvious sign of his past pregnancy, acceptable and attractive.
Eventually, he finds himself doing a general interview, with James, following the release of the third X-Men: First Class film, and it comes up. Sara and Joshua are with Michael's parents, but Aria had the sniffles, and James didn't want to not be around her, so she's come with them, making some people tut and look at them in confusion, but no one seriously objects. She's in a sling on Michael's front, and James thinks the juxtaposition between his smart outfit and his dozing little daughter is beautiful.
"Can we talk about that infamous photo, Michael?" the presenter asks, pleasantly.
"Eh, I don't see why it's so infamous!" Michael says, shaking his head but smiling, "I've seen much more controversial thing out there!"
"I think it's how very proud and unapologetic you are," she says, and he can tell she is congratulating him, "And a lot of people didn't know how to react to that."
Michael grins and shrugs.
"Well, I'm not ashamed of having been pregnant. I can make my own decisions about my own body: and what I've done is a beautiful thing."
"What about you, James?" she asks him. James laughs.
"Ah! Don't get me wrong, I'm just as proud as this one, but I've not quite got what he has in that photo, if you know what I'm saying."
"What you have is better," Michael says quietly, and James blushes happily. At this point Aria stirs, and there is some fussing over her by both her parents and the interviewer, until the baby dozes off again.
“Rumours have been circulating that you’re actually pregnant again, Michael. Is there going to be a fourth addition to the McAvoy-Fassbender family?” the interviewer asks. James bursts out laughing and leans on Michael's shoulder.
“Oh, Jesus." Michael grins, "Is this all from some photograph or something? Can I see it?” she shows it to him, a picture of himself with a bit of a tummy, and he laughs. “That’s not a baby. That’s the four weeks James and I spent in Germany, if I’m honest with you! Seriously, though, I’m not ruling out another child, but who knows. Let’s see where we end up, y’know?”
James watches Aria as she snuggles, half in sleep, against her Papa's chest. He reaches out and curves his palm lovingly around the back of her little head, and knows he's the happiest he's ever been.
- The End-