Title: RaSta (working title)
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Pacific Rim
Pairing: Raleigh Becket/Stacker Pentecost
Genre: action, romance, mpreg
Summary: Young Raleigh Becket has a crush on Stacker Pentecost. Shit happens, as it's wont to do.
He pressed his face into the pillow, breathing through the thick stuffing. He was wrapped up like a burrito and he didn't care how much Yancy teased him later. It felt good, like a full body hug. It was something that he needed.
He wriggled around until the blanket completely covered his head. He lay on his arms, cupping either thigh with his hands. There was nothing sexual about the pose--he'd jerked off a few times, but it had been lackluster at best. His arousal levels were so low that he figured Medical would be making comments about his hormone-levels being out of whack. Then there'd be suggestions that he get a full work up from his OB/GYN.
Raleigh shifted to press his pelvis into the mattress. As though he hadn't spent most of his teen years stressing about his biology. He loved having strangers discussing his estrogen and testosterone levels. He could see them wondering when he'd give into the urge and pop out a few kids. Because he was weak of will and during the apocalypse was the perfect time to bring a baby into the world.
Raleigh groaned. He hated when gender-stereotypes turned him into some kind of spectacle. Everyone seemed to think they had the right to offer him unasked for advice. It was as though they thought he was public property.
He squeezed his eyes shut and relaxed limply. He took shallow breaths against his pillowcase. He could hear his blood rushing through his body, a whish-whish sound that reminded him he was alive.
He felt like a fool, letting himself fall so hard for someone like Stacker Pentecost. He should have known that such a dignified man would have no real interest in him. He was just a scrappy kid from Anchorage; good enough to play around with, but not to marry or have children with.
How ridiculous was it to be so unhappy simply because Stacker didn't want to be with him. He'd thought he'd outgrown this kind of melodrama when he'd stopped being a teenager, yet here he was. His feelings had once again been hurt by someone not wanting to be with him. Except this time made him feel worse than Greg Keldorfer--the love of his 14-year-old heart--had ever managed to make him feel, probably because some part of him had wanted Stacker to be the one.
He'd let himself imagine what it might be like after the breach was closed and Kaiju were no longer a risk. He'd imagined settling down somewhere with Stacker as his husband. They'd have a handful of kids and grow their own food, and life would be idyllic.
The dream had died when Stacker had looked at him with such blatant disbelief. He'd obviously never once considered settling anywhere with Raleigh. And it stung, acid in a wound that had been torn open and raw.
Since the first Kaiju had attacked--even when seen on the news, Trespasser had been terrifying to a 15-year-old boy--Raleigh had pushed away the idea of having children. There was no way he wanted to bring a helpless baby into a world where it could be terrorized and killed by giant creatures from another universe.
Biological imperative meant nothing to the fear of losing another family member. He'd decided to wait until after the end of the world had been averted before having any children. He would fight and maybe die, but he wouldn't leave behind some helpless kid that deserved so much more than a Kaiju ravaged world.
But the Jaegers were unbeaten so far. Human ingenuity and dauntless bravery meant they'd faced dozens of Kaiju and won. There was hope that there was going to be a future.
And when Raleigh stood close to Stacker, his every instinct screamed out "This is the one." It breathed life into the old dreams of marriage and family, of being happy somewhere that didn't involve conn-pods and battle.
For the first time since he was 15-years-old, he'd let himself imagine a normal life.
So it stung to have those dreams dashed. Because he hadn't even realized how desperately he wanted that idyllic future until it was taken away. And the reality of life right now tasted bitter on his tongue. Bitter and lonely.
It felt like the children he'd half-allowed himself to picture had died before they could be born. Murdered by his own foolishness in allowing himself to dream.
You can never be normal, he thought. This is the world now and for always. All you're good for is fighting. You're never going to be anyone's dad.
He didn't realize he was crying until the damp cotton of the pillowcase began sticking to his face. His nose was even beginning to run, as helpless tears seeped from between his closed eyelids.
It wasn't the first time he'd cried over thoughts of a way of life ending. It wouldn't be the last. But oh did it hurt in the here and now.
Raleigh Becket, co-pilot of the Jaeger Gipsy Danger wept for what might have been and never would be. And then he wept for the lives lost--friends from school, family members he hadn't kept up with, and strangers he'd never met. He wept for those killed and those that had survived, because everyone was walking around with the wound of those they'd lost.
He wept for himself. The boy he used to be, with dreams of a very different life. The man he was, laughing in the face of danger to keep anyone from seeing how afraid he was. And the man he might have been, living in a family-sized home that was full of laughter and love and hope.
Raleigh Becket wept.