FF->PP: Post 6: FIC: Stars, Marvelverse, genderflip AU, gen
I am taking far more liberty with Donna Blake's backstory than with the others. Because she's not, like, Don Blake with the same approximate background and no Y chromosome. She's pretty much a completely different person, Thor got incarnated as a completely different human being, just with a similar name for, y'know, metatextual reasons.
And an excuse to have fun writing thunderstorms. Because oh do I love thunderstorms.
*****
London, Whitehall, spring of 1935
The bang of the heavy front door barely carries over the roar of the storm.
Matthew Blake blows with a stagger and a gasp like a drowning man coming up for air. Rain sheets over the front hall carpet before he manages to haul the door closed, throw his weight against it, and bolt it. Wind howls in the cracks. He's sopping from head to toe, hair plastered to his skull; he shakes violently, stops to wipe water off his glasses.
"It's no use," he shouts down the darkened hall. "No bloody way it's safe to take the car out. Nellie, Nellie, is she all right?"
He gropes his way down the hallway until he finds a candle. The electric lamps have all gone out; it's past midnight, and the only light from the windows is flashes of lightning. Roll of thunder deafens the wail of pain from behind his wife's door. The servant's voice, but he can't make out the words.
He bangs on the door, shivering wet, clinging to the candle. "I'm coming in, Nellie."
"Oh, sir, it's not proper--"
He comes in anyway, sets his candle on the side table by the door. There's a forest of candles around his wife's bed. Nellie beside her quite literally wringing her hands. Whipcrack of thunder, cold bright lightning over his wife wound up the sheets, sweaty and wailing.
"Her water's broken, sir--"
"There's no way we could safely get to the hospital in this." He swipes water out of his eyes, shrugs off his soaked coat, comes up to the bed. "Kate." He kneels, takes her hand; she looks over at him, hazy with pain. "Kate, I'm sorry. This storm is utterly mad."
"If something goes wrong, sir," Nellie says.
"Then it won't," Kate whispers. Contraction catches her and she wails, holds tight to his hand. "It just won't."
The storm roars and howls like an animal, drops thunder like mortars in the sky.
He boggles, bows his head to kiss her hand. She's panting. He places his other hand gentle on her big belly, looks up, and she's opened her eyes. Her clear green eyes, and she looks unconquerable.
"It won't," she says again.
She's in labor for thirteen hours, and in all that time, the storm doesn't budge. The streets flood. Trees down between the old stone houses. Three people struck by lightning. Matthew Blake by her side all along. Nellie the servant girl dozing in a straight-backed chair at times, jolting in her sleep at the thunder.
The baby's a girl, crying loud enough to drown the storm. The blood darkens in the dim light of the early afternoon as the clouds slowly clear. Matthew watches the double rainbow out the window, and puts little Donna squalling on her mother's breast.
*****
This post is part of the Fanfiction Frenzy for Planned Parenthood, which is wired_lizard's outing for Day of Blogs, and has raised $190 so far. Like what you see? Please consider donating!
And an excuse to have fun writing thunderstorms. Because oh do I love thunderstorms.
*****
London, Whitehall, spring of 1935
The bang of the heavy front door barely carries over the roar of the storm.
Matthew Blake blows with a stagger and a gasp like a drowning man coming up for air. Rain sheets over the front hall carpet before he manages to haul the door closed, throw his weight against it, and bolt it. Wind howls in the cracks. He's sopping from head to toe, hair plastered to his skull; he shakes violently, stops to wipe water off his glasses.
"It's no use," he shouts down the darkened hall. "No bloody way it's safe to take the car out. Nellie, Nellie, is she all right?"
He gropes his way down the hallway until he finds a candle. The electric lamps have all gone out; it's past midnight, and the only light from the windows is flashes of lightning. Roll of thunder deafens the wail of pain from behind his wife's door. The servant's voice, but he can't make out the words.
He bangs on the door, shivering wet, clinging to the candle. "I'm coming in, Nellie."
"Oh, sir, it's not proper--"
He comes in anyway, sets his candle on the side table by the door. There's a forest of candles around his wife's bed. Nellie beside her quite literally wringing her hands. Whipcrack of thunder, cold bright lightning over his wife wound up the sheets, sweaty and wailing.
"Her water's broken, sir--"
"There's no way we could safely get to the hospital in this." He swipes water out of his eyes, shrugs off his soaked coat, comes up to the bed. "Kate." He kneels, takes her hand; she looks over at him, hazy with pain. "Kate, I'm sorry. This storm is utterly mad."
"If something goes wrong, sir," Nellie says.
"Then it won't," Kate whispers. Contraction catches her and she wails, holds tight to his hand. "It just won't."
The storm roars and howls like an animal, drops thunder like mortars in the sky.
He boggles, bows his head to kiss her hand. She's panting. He places his other hand gentle on her big belly, looks up, and she's opened her eyes. Her clear green eyes, and she looks unconquerable.
"It won't," she says again.
She's in labor for thirteen hours, and in all that time, the storm doesn't budge. The streets flood. Trees down between the old stone houses. Three people struck by lightning. Matthew Blake by her side all along. Nellie the servant girl dozing in a straight-backed chair at times, jolting in her sleep at the thunder.
The baby's a girl, crying loud enough to drown the storm. The blood darkens in the dim light of the early afternoon as the clouds slowly clear. Matthew watches the double rainbow out the window, and puts little Donna squalling on her mother's breast.
*****
This post is part of the Fanfiction Frenzy for Planned Parenthood, which is wired_lizard's outing for Day of Blogs, and has raised $190 so far. Like what you see? Please consider donating!