(no subject)
Anarchy scrunched up his eyes as he pressed his face against the glass, half glaring at the plastic bassinets inside. “That's it?”
“What's it,” Andy sighed, running a hand through his hair and peering over his shoulder to glance inside the nursery. Fucking great that Gidget and Girlyass wanted to have fucking kids, sure, what the fuck ever, but didn't know why they needed to come down and see them right fucking now when he had work in the damn morning. “They're babies.”
“They're not really doing anything.” The twelve year old shifted from one food to the other, scuffing his clunky shoes against the hospital floor.
“They're fucking babies. If they were doing something it'd be shitting or screaming.” He could see Girlyass down the hall, chatting it up with one of the nurses, and shrugged.
“Babies are fuck lame,” Anarchy concluded, tilting his head and peering one last time at the matching pink things labeled “Litch” before turning around and peering up at his father. Andy just nodded and put one hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the nursery and towards the rest of this fucked up little family where it had congregated in the hall. Nym turned, looked down, and smiled widely.
“Did you see them?”
“Yeah.”
“Aren't they beautiful?”
“They're all squished up looking and bald,” Anarchy drawled, clearly unimpressed, before getting an unenthusiastic swat on the back of the head. He scowled back, rubbing at red hair and being completely ignored by Nym's undauntable enthusiasm. Andy raised his eyebrows in a half-hearted warning, unable to really get pissed in the face of the fact that while theirs was a fucking brat, at least he didn't shit his pants.
Cars were parked everywhere, scattered across the ground with no rhyme or reason, but no one seemed to care as doors were slammed open and people emerged into the sunlight, laughing and hugging in the grass.
“Look, children.” Valerie couldn’t stop smiling as she placed the basket on the ground, crouching beside it and shading her eyes with one hand. “Look how beautiful it all is.”
The children squirmed, climbing over each other and the edge of the basket to tumble clumsily to the ground, mewling and rolling around. The earth was solid beneath the sweet smelling grass, and they stumbled and knocked into each other as their paws adjusted. Valerie hovered, cooing and talking to them about the sun, and air, and from across the haphazard row of emptying cars and people the Cassini sisters were making their way over, waving.
“Dada,” on of the children mewled, reaching up to dig her claws into his pants, and Brannigan scooped her up, smiling.