so I don't know what this is...
Don't really know where this came from or where I want to go with it. I blame The New Normal for the idea getting lodged in my head, but yeah. Just sat down one night, turned on some Mumford & Sons, and started writing this... I just love the idea of Lulu and Suza having a family, I think it's just the cutest thing. ^^
I would love to continue this, but don't really know where to go with it. o_o I may be in need of a co-writer or something. lol
Lelouch stares, a mixture of disbelief and horror on his face, and Suzaku grins sheepishly back at him, shifting weight onto his left foot as he stands awkwardly in the doorway. Several minutes pass under this silence, during which Suzaku regrets his decision to come here. Their relationship has been strained ever since what happened with Euphemia, he really can’t expect to unload this burden onto Lelouch and for that to just be okay; it’ completely selfish of him.
“Where did you get that?” Lelouch finally breaks the ice, and it’s with a disgusted curl of his lip at the wriggling bundle of pink in Suzaku’s arms.
Right. Bad idea. What was he thinking showing up with the baby? Lelouch hates kids. They’re loud and messy and uncontrollable, and all those things Lelouch can’t stand, so Suzaku really could not have planned a worse reunion for them if he tried and he should really leave if he has any sense at all.
Lelouch huffs impatiently and steps aside, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well don’t just stand there,” he says.
For a moment Suzaku doesn’t believe he’s serious. It’s only when Lelouch gives another exasperated sigh and turns back into the house - leaving the door wide open behind him - that he gives a relieved laugh and rush in after him. He toes the door shut and kicks his shoes off, stepping into the slippers Lelouch has taken out of the closet for him.
“Can I make you a coffee?”
“Oh,” Suzaku says, frowning and adjusting his grip on the baby. He notices Lelouch’s eyes flick down to the infant. “No, I don’t-”
“That’s right, you like tea. I remember now.”
Suzaku shakes his head quickly. “You don’t have to make anything,” he assures Lelouch, but Lelouch is already in the kitchen, going through the cupboards.
“Oolong, right?”
“I really don’t want to impose...”
Lelouch doesn’t say anything to that, probably because they both know Suzaku’s showing up on his doorstep with an infant in his arms is already a gross imposition. After a minute or so Suzaku hears the kettle whistling, and not long after that Lelouch returns carrying a tray with their tea. He nods to the couch and Suzaku sits gratefully, repositioning the baby on the cushions beside him. He fixes the blanket under her head and she gurgles happily up at the ceiling.
Lelouch pours the tea. “So,” he begins conversationally. His voice is polite but clipped, as if he is merely forcing pleasantries with a stranger. “I didn’t know you were expecting.”
He nudges the cup and saucer in Suzaku’s direction and, with a guilty flush, Suzaku accepts both the tea and the jibe. “I didn’t either, to be honest,” he admits, adding a cube of sugar to the tea and not missing the subtle upward quirk of Lelouch’s lips.
“Euphie’s, I imagine?”
Suzaku takes his time stirring the sugar, making sure it’s all dissolved before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a slow sip. The hot liquid burns down his throat, but it’s no more uncomfortable than having this discussion with Lelouch. Talking about Euphemia is still too painful, and talking about her with Lelouch, who will never fully understand (or even want to fully understand) their relationship is like swallowing glass. “It’s kind of a long story.”
Lelouch leans back in his chair with his own cup of tea, crossing his legs. “You just knocked on my door for the first time in six years, at two-o-clock in the morning with a baby,” he points out, narrowing his eyes. Suzaku resists the urge to sink further into the sofa. “By all means, don’t be brief.”
Suzaku can’t help but smile at the display of attitude, the light accent that still underscores Lelouch’s voice. Even if everything is different, not much has changed, and Suzaku is so glad for that.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, and he completely means it. He really has missed Lelouch; the lines of his face, fine arches of his brows and condescending gleam of his eyes, the way he purses his lips when preparing to speak. Has it really been six years? It seems like just yesterday they were pulling all-nighters in Suzaku’s room, Lelouch insisting they cheat their way through the various video games Suzaku owned in order to set records and Suzaku insisting they had to play by the rules.
“Don’t,” Lelouch interrupts sharply, raising a hand as if to physically stop Suzaku from saying anything more. The sting of the words catches Suzaku off guard, and obediently he closes his mouth and slumps back against the couch. “I’m really not in the mood to reminisce, and f I were I wouldn’t do so with you. Now please.” He turns his palm upward and gestures to the baby. “What happened? I didn’t think the two of you were trying for kids.”
“We weren’t! I mean... we’d been trying earlier, a few years ago, but the doctors thought maybe I - or Euphie-”
“Clearly not,” Lelouch hums. He doesn’t bother asking whether or not the child is really Suzaku’s; both out of respect for his half-sister’s memory and the fact the baby so clearly resembles her father. “How old is she?”
“Um…” Suzaku scratches his arm, trying to remember. The past few days have been a flurry of change, and it’s hard to sort through all the new information that’s been hurtled at him, much less make sense of any of it. “A little over a year.”
“And Euphie never deigned to tell you that you’re a father?”
“I guess, after the way everything ended...”
Lelouch scoffs. “You fell out of love, big deal. People get divorced every day, it’s not an excuse to hide this kind of news from you. And now you’re saddled with a kid you didn’t even know existed.”
“That’s not-”
Lelouch shakes his head. “The problem is, Euphemia never had to be responsible for anything. Everyone always made excuses for her.” Because of her naiveté, Euphemia’s flightiness and constantly shifting dreams were encouraged instead of reprimanded. No one ever had the heart to tell her no, except Lelouch and, well, that was not a happy time for any of them. “They still do!”
“Lelouch, you don’t-”
“Oh please, Suzaku, you don’t have to defend her just because you were married once.”
“She doesn’t want me to raise the baby,” Suzaku blurts, effectively shutting Lelouch up. “I mean, she... She wants me in her life, but she’s - she gave full custody of the baby to you.”
Lelouch’s teacup clatters against its saucer. Tea sloshes over the rim, but he doesn’t pay any attention. His eyes are wide, and he can barely find a voice to ask if he’s heard right.
Suzaku swallows thickly and works his way around the difficult words. He wonders why Euphemia didn’t think he could do it on his own. “Euphie wanted you to raise her baby.”
“But why?” Lelouch has never been fond of children, because of what happened with Nunnally - everyone knows that. “She’s yours.”
“She left a note,” Suzaku offers, because it’s the only thing he can say amidst the depressing thought that Euphemia just did not believe in his capacity to be a father. It makes sense, though, considering his relationship with his own father was not the greatest. She probably feared he would succumb to his father’s same vices.
He rummages around the diaper bag - it’s brown, thankfully, so he walking down the street with it wasn’t too embarrassing - and pulls the worn envelope from underneath the baby’s spare clothes. For a moment he only stares at it, calling to mind the words concealed beneath. “It doesn’t offer much of an explanation, but - well, here.” Maybe Lelouch will take more from it than he did.
Lelouch takes the envelope from him wordlessly and leans back in his chair. Suzaku watches his eyes move across the page as he reads. Once or twice he makes a face - pinches his lips, or raises an eyebrow - but Suzaku takes away no hint of what Lelouch might be feeling.
“Can’t say I’m fond of the name,” Lelouch finally says, after setting the note on the coffee table. “Ioulia.”
“I think it’s pretty,” Suzaku says, and there’s no mistaking the defensive edge to his voice. He watches as Lelouch stands and makes his way around the coffee table to hover over the baby.
She turns her eyes to Lelouch - big, intelligent violet eyes, just a shade darker than her mother’s - and reaches one chubby arm up to him.
“Hi,” Lelouch greets her somewhat awkwardly, extending his own hand.
She considers him for a moment, then grasps on to his index finger. Her grip is surprisingly strong for such a little thing. Lelouch can’t help the smile that worms across his face.
Suzaku smiles too. He never thought he would see Lelouch wear such a soft expression again. “What are you going to do?” he asks. He’s not sure he wants to hear the answer. Just because Lelouch might be fond of the baby right now doesn’t mean he’ll actually want to keep her. Just because Euphemia requested Lelouch as the caretaker for the baby, doesn’t mean Lelouch won’t decide to give her up for adoption. Ultimately it’s Lelouch’s decision, and Suzaku can’t expect him to undertake such a huge responsibility. Lelouch has a life, a job that demands more than a fair share of his time and attention.
There’s also the fact that Lelouch never got along exceptionally well with Euphemia. Euphemia had long since let childhood grudges go, and as long as Suzaku had known her she’d never had a negative word to say about her half-brother, but Lelouch was not as easily forgiving. He blamed Euphemia for things she’d had no control over, and even after all this time it didn’t seem as if his opinion had changed all that much. Why would he want to accept her child into his life, when he had barely accepted her?
Lelouch stoops down and takes the baby into his arm. A paternal surge of anxiety makes Suzaku’s heart leap in his throat, and before he realizes it he is standing up as well, protectively reaching to take the baby from Lelouch. Lelouch’s eyes meet his, and then the guilt comes washing over him.
He’d just been suspicious that... what, Lelouch might hurt the baby?
Ashamed of himself, Suzaku quickly sits back down.
“I’m going to keep her,” Lelouch says. The baby’s head is resting on his shoulder and she seems quite content, nuzzling against the dark strands of his hair. It’s actually quite a heartwarming picture. “Under one condition.”
Suzaku forces himself to meet Lelouch’s eyes again. “Which is?”
“I don’t believe a child should be raised without both its parents,” Lelouch explains. “You’re her father. I want your help raising her.”
Suzaku’s heart leaps for an entirely different reason. “Lelouch!” Before he can over-think it and decide it’s not a good idea, he jumps up and throws his arms around the other man. The baby lets out a squeal, joining in his joyous laughter, and it's like they really are a family.
I would love to continue this, but don't really know where to go with it. o_o I may be in need of a co-writer or something. lol
Lelouch stares, a mixture of disbelief and horror on his face, and Suzaku grins sheepishly back at him, shifting weight onto his left foot as he stands awkwardly in the doorway. Several minutes pass under this silence, during which Suzaku regrets his decision to come here. Their relationship has been strained ever since what happened with Euphemia, he really can’t expect to unload this burden onto Lelouch and for that to just be okay; it’ completely selfish of him.
“Where did you get that?” Lelouch finally breaks the ice, and it’s with a disgusted curl of his lip at the wriggling bundle of pink in Suzaku’s arms.
Right. Bad idea. What was he thinking showing up with the baby? Lelouch hates kids. They’re loud and messy and uncontrollable, and all those things Lelouch can’t stand, so Suzaku really could not have planned a worse reunion for them if he tried and he should really leave if he has any sense at all.
Lelouch huffs impatiently and steps aside, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well don’t just stand there,” he says.
For a moment Suzaku doesn’t believe he’s serious. It’s only when Lelouch gives another exasperated sigh and turns back into the house - leaving the door wide open behind him - that he gives a relieved laugh and rush in after him. He toes the door shut and kicks his shoes off, stepping into the slippers Lelouch has taken out of the closet for him.
“Can I make you a coffee?”
“Oh,” Suzaku says, frowning and adjusting his grip on the baby. He notices Lelouch’s eyes flick down to the infant. “No, I don’t-”
“That’s right, you like tea. I remember now.”
Suzaku shakes his head quickly. “You don’t have to make anything,” he assures Lelouch, but Lelouch is already in the kitchen, going through the cupboards.
“Oolong, right?”
“I really don’t want to impose...”
Lelouch doesn’t say anything to that, probably because they both know Suzaku’s showing up on his doorstep with an infant in his arms is already a gross imposition. After a minute or so Suzaku hears the kettle whistling, and not long after that Lelouch returns carrying a tray with their tea. He nods to the couch and Suzaku sits gratefully, repositioning the baby on the cushions beside him. He fixes the blanket under her head and she gurgles happily up at the ceiling.
Lelouch pours the tea. “So,” he begins conversationally. His voice is polite but clipped, as if he is merely forcing pleasantries with a stranger. “I didn’t know you were expecting.”
He nudges the cup and saucer in Suzaku’s direction and, with a guilty flush, Suzaku accepts both the tea and the jibe. “I didn’t either, to be honest,” he admits, adding a cube of sugar to the tea and not missing the subtle upward quirk of Lelouch’s lips.
“Euphie’s, I imagine?”
Suzaku takes his time stirring the sugar, making sure it’s all dissolved before bringing the cup to his lips and taking a slow sip. The hot liquid burns down his throat, but it’s no more uncomfortable than having this discussion with Lelouch. Talking about Euphemia is still too painful, and talking about her with Lelouch, who will never fully understand (or even want to fully understand) their relationship is like swallowing glass. “It’s kind of a long story.”
Lelouch leans back in his chair with his own cup of tea, crossing his legs. “You just knocked on my door for the first time in six years, at two-o-clock in the morning with a baby,” he points out, narrowing his eyes. Suzaku resists the urge to sink further into the sofa. “By all means, don’t be brief.”
Suzaku can’t help but smile at the display of attitude, the light accent that still underscores Lelouch’s voice. Even if everything is different, not much has changed, and Suzaku is so glad for that.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, and he completely means it. He really has missed Lelouch; the lines of his face, fine arches of his brows and condescending gleam of his eyes, the way he purses his lips when preparing to speak. Has it really been six years? It seems like just yesterday they were pulling all-nighters in Suzaku’s room, Lelouch insisting they cheat their way through the various video games Suzaku owned in order to set records and Suzaku insisting they had to play by the rules.
“Don’t,” Lelouch interrupts sharply, raising a hand as if to physically stop Suzaku from saying anything more. The sting of the words catches Suzaku off guard, and obediently he closes his mouth and slumps back against the couch. “I’m really not in the mood to reminisce, and f I were I wouldn’t do so with you. Now please.” He turns his palm upward and gestures to the baby. “What happened? I didn’t think the two of you were trying for kids.”
“We weren’t! I mean... we’d been trying earlier, a few years ago, but the doctors thought maybe I - or Euphie-”
“Clearly not,” Lelouch hums. He doesn’t bother asking whether or not the child is really Suzaku’s; both out of respect for his half-sister’s memory and the fact the baby so clearly resembles her father. “How old is she?”
“Um…” Suzaku scratches his arm, trying to remember. The past few days have been a flurry of change, and it’s hard to sort through all the new information that’s been hurtled at him, much less make sense of any of it. “A little over a year.”
“And Euphie never deigned to tell you that you’re a father?”
“I guess, after the way everything ended...”
Lelouch scoffs. “You fell out of love, big deal. People get divorced every day, it’s not an excuse to hide this kind of news from you. And now you’re saddled with a kid you didn’t even know existed.”
“That’s not-”
Lelouch shakes his head. “The problem is, Euphemia never had to be responsible for anything. Everyone always made excuses for her.” Because of her naiveté, Euphemia’s flightiness and constantly shifting dreams were encouraged instead of reprimanded. No one ever had the heart to tell her no, except Lelouch and, well, that was not a happy time for any of them. “They still do!”
“Lelouch, you don’t-”
“Oh please, Suzaku, you don’t have to defend her just because you were married once.”
“She doesn’t want me to raise the baby,” Suzaku blurts, effectively shutting Lelouch up. “I mean, she... She wants me in her life, but she’s - she gave full custody of the baby to you.”
Lelouch’s teacup clatters against its saucer. Tea sloshes over the rim, but he doesn’t pay any attention. His eyes are wide, and he can barely find a voice to ask if he’s heard right.
Suzaku swallows thickly and works his way around the difficult words. He wonders why Euphemia didn’t think he could do it on his own. “Euphie wanted you to raise her baby.”
“But why?” Lelouch has never been fond of children, because of what happened with Nunnally - everyone knows that. “She’s yours.”
“She left a note,” Suzaku offers, because it’s the only thing he can say amidst the depressing thought that Euphemia just did not believe in his capacity to be a father. It makes sense, though, considering his relationship with his own father was not the greatest. She probably feared he would succumb to his father’s same vices.
He rummages around the diaper bag - it’s brown, thankfully, so he walking down the street with it wasn’t too embarrassing - and pulls the worn envelope from underneath the baby’s spare clothes. For a moment he only stares at it, calling to mind the words concealed beneath. “It doesn’t offer much of an explanation, but - well, here.” Maybe Lelouch will take more from it than he did.
Lelouch takes the envelope from him wordlessly and leans back in his chair. Suzaku watches his eyes move across the page as he reads. Once or twice he makes a face - pinches his lips, or raises an eyebrow - but Suzaku takes away no hint of what Lelouch might be feeling.
“Can’t say I’m fond of the name,” Lelouch finally says, after setting the note on the coffee table. “Ioulia.”
“I think it’s pretty,” Suzaku says, and there’s no mistaking the defensive edge to his voice. He watches as Lelouch stands and makes his way around the coffee table to hover over the baby.
She turns her eyes to Lelouch - big, intelligent violet eyes, just a shade darker than her mother’s - and reaches one chubby arm up to him.
“Hi,” Lelouch greets her somewhat awkwardly, extending his own hand.
She considers him for a moment, then grasps on to his index finger. Her grip is surprisingly strong for such a little thing. Lelouch can’t help the smile that worms across his face.
Suzaku smiles too. He never thought he would see Lelouch wear such a soft expression again. “What are you going to do?” he asks. He’s not sure he wants to hear the answer. Just because Lelouch might be fond of the baby right now doesn’t mean he’ll actually want to keep her. Just because Euphemia requested Lelouch as the caretaker for the baby, doesn’t mean Lelouch won’t decide to give her up for adoption. Ultimately it’s Lelouch’s decision, and Suzaku can’t expect him to undertake such a huge responsibility. Lelouch has a life, a job that demands more than a fair share of his time and attention.
There’s also the fact that Lelouch never got along exceptionally well with Euphemia. Euphemia had long since let childhood grudges go, and as long as Suzaku had known her she’d never had a negative word to say about her half-brother, but Lelouch was not as easily forgiving. He blamed Euphemia for things she’d had no control over, and even after all this time it didn’t seem as if his opinion had changed all that much. Why would he want to accept her child into his life, when he had barely accepted her?
Lelouch stoops down and takes the baby into his arm. A paternal surge of anxiety makes Suzaku’s heart leap in his throat, and before he realizes it he is standing up as well, protectively reaching to take the baby from Lelouch. Lelouch’s eyes meet his, and then the guilt comes washing over him.
He’d just been suspicious that... what, Lelouch might hurt the baby?
Ashamed of himself, Suzaku quickly sits back down.
“I’m going to keep her,” Lelouch says. The baby’s head is resting on his shoulder and she seems quite content, nuzzling against the dark strands of his hair. It’s actually quite a heartwarming picture. “Under one condition.”
Suzaku forces himself to meet Lelouch’s eyes again. “Which is?”
“I don’t believe a child should be raised without both its parents,” Lelouch explains. “You’re her father. I want your help raising her.”
Suzaku’s heart leaps for an entirely different reason. “Lelouch!” Before he can over-think it and decide it’s not a good idea, he jumps up and throws his arms around the other man. The baby lets out a squeal, joining in his joyous laughter, and it's like they really are a family.