(no subject)
Life on the Baby Scene
Fandom: Bandom (MCR plus the odd member or another band).
Rating: R-ish for language
Pairings: Gerard/Lyn-z
Wordcount: 2496
Summary: Bob scratches his beard bemusedly. "...I'm sorry, go back to the part where you think you're pregnant?"
Warnings: Ahaha. Mpreg, crack, magical handwavy non-science. Possibly the most ridiculous thing I've ever written?
Gerard's three months along when he tells the others.
None of them believe him, of course. He expects that, and hauls out the tests.
"I did, like, ten of them before I believed it myself," he says, while Brian holds one of the tests and squints at the little display window. "And I've got some more if you want to, like, watch me do one, only I might need to drink something before I can pee again."
"...Do I want to know how you got your hands on more than ten pregnancy tests?" Brian asks. "I mean, please tell me you didn't go out and buy them yourself."
"I have my ways," Gerard says, and then glances around at the others. "I wanted to tell you guys first thing, after Lindsey. I told her first 'cause I'm pretty sure it's hers."
No one says anything for a long, long moment.
Bob scratches his beard bemusedly. "...I'm sorry, go back to the part where you think you're pregnant?"
What had happened, okay, was that during the short break they'd had over Christmas, he and Lindsey had talked about kids.
"I do want them, eventually," she'd said. "I just...wish that having them wouldn't mean taking so much time off from performing. And I don't want to do it until we can commit to it, y'know? Not drag a baby around on tour or be absentee parents."
"Yeah, me neither," Gerard had agreed, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "And I mean, we've got time, my biological clock's not ticking that loud yet. But whenever we do it, it kinda sucks that you're gonna have to do all the hard work."
"Yeah," Lindsey said, and then craned her neck to look at him, grinning. "Too bad you can't have our babies."
"It is," Gerard replied, solemnly. "I'm even gonna be off the road for a good while coming up."
She'd laughed at him for that, and he'd gone "What?", mock-indignant. "I would totally have your babies, if I could."
"Aww, that's so sweet," she'd said, and kissed him, and...yeah, things sort of went from there.
Gerard had felt a little funny when he woke up the next morning, but he'd just figured he might be coming down with something and switched out his first cup of coffee for herbal tea.
The worst part so far are the fucking cigarettes.
Gerard didn't know it was physically possible to want a cigarette this badly, but he's already freaking the hell out about having smoked as much as he usually does for two and a half months before he'd started to suspect something weird was going on. And his first impulse would be to drink even more coffee to make up for the lack of cigarettes, but that's not exactly the healthiest thing for a baby, either.
A baby. There's a motherfucking baby inside his body (exactly where, he has no idea, unless he's spontaneously grown a uterus), and it's simultaneously the coolest, scariest, and downright weirdest thing that's ever happened to him.
The best thing, so far, is how willing to pamper him everyone's been.
"Hey," Frank says, coming into the lounge with Ray and Bob behind him. "We got you some more nicotine gum. Like, a lot of it. And, uh, let us know if you start getting any weird cravings?"
"I don't think I get those 'til later," Gerard informs him, and makes grabby hands at the gum.
"Okay, so." Mikey finally emerges from the bunks, where he's been on the phone. "I had to call in a lot of favors, but I think I can get you in touch with a doctor in South America who knows how to handle this."
"...Why the fuck is there a doctor anywhere in the world who knows how to handle male pregnancy?" Ray asks.
Mikey shrugs. "I guess Gee's not the first man in the world to get magically pregnant."
"How exactly did you find out about this guy?" Brian asks, suspicious.
Mikey shrugs again. "From, y'know, people."
Brian's eyes narrow. "What kind of people?"
Mikey mumbles something indistinct.
Brian cocks an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
Mikey sighs in defeat. "...Gabe Saporta?"
"...You told Gabe Saporta about me being pregnant?" Gerard shrieks.
Mikey throws his hands up. "Who else was gonna believe me?"
"What if he tells other people?" Gerard demands.
"Who else is gonna believe him?" Mikey counters.
Bob raises his hand. "Uh, question? Why does Gabe know a male pregnancy doctor?"
"I asked him that," Mikey says, placidly. "He asked me if I really wanted an answer. Turns out I don't. Anyway, Gee, he says this guy ought to be able to steer you through the whole pregnancy. Assuming, y'know, that you want to go through with it."
Everyone looks at Gerard, who puts a hand on his stomach almost defensively, and looks over at Brian with big eyes.
Brian looks back at him for a moment, stony-faced, and then facepalms, sighing. "We're gonna have one hell of a cover-up job on our hands..."
"But we should be off the road before I start to show that much," Gerard says.
"Assuming you gestate at the same rate a woman would," Brian points out, and makes an I-can't-believe-I'm-having-this-conversation face. "Look, I can't make this decision for you. I'm not gonna...treat your baby like it's just an inconvenience for me, for Christ's sake. Even though it is inconvenient."
Gerard beams at him. "I already talked things over with Lyn--she's fine with taking time off, and wearing baggy clothes and stuff, so we can make it look like she had the baby." He pauses, looking down at his stomach. "I know this is...really, really fucking weird, and I know it's gonna be a headache, but...I want to have my baby."
"Fine," Brian says, resigned, and then starts counting off on his fingers. "Healthy food. As much of a healthy sleep cycle as you can manage. No smoking on the bus, from anyone. Be extremely fucking careful when and where you talk about this--the fewer people who find out, the better. If we're doing this, let's do it right, people."
Mikey flips his Sidekick open again. "Gee, I'm gonna forward that doctor's contact info to your phone, okay? Oh, also--when do you think we should let Mom and Dad know?"
Gerard makes a strangled noise and buries his face in the couch cushions.
Lindsey flies out as soon as she can and goes straight from the airport to the bus, pulling Gerard into a tight hug before she even says hi to anyone else.
"I love you, and I will totally have the next one," she says.
"I love you too," Gerard says, clinging just a little before he steps back. "You want coffee? I need to cut down on caffeine, but Brian helped me work out how much is safe to me have."
"I can make it," Lindsey says, intercepting him on the way to the coffee maker and waving him towards the tiny kitchen table. "You sit down, mister, you're in a delicate condition."
Gerard makes a face, but obeys, while Lindsey heats up the half a pot that's sitting there and finds two vaguely clean mugs.
"Hey," she says, catching sight of a piece of paper stuck to the fridge. "You thinking about names already?"
"Huh?" Gerard looks over. "Oh, yeah, I asked the guys if they had any suggestions."
"The 'boy' column has Mikey, Ray, Frank, Bob, Brian, and James and the 'girl' column has Michelle, Ramona, Frances, Roberta, Brianna, and Jamie." Lindsey sips her coffee. "And Elena."
"...Yeah," Gerard says, and Lindsey bends over and kisses the top of his head, smiling.
Gabe's doctor from South America flies up to the States a few days later and examines Gerard in private. Nobody asks too much about the mechanics of how Gerard is pregnant, because there's only so much weirdness they're prepared to handle.
What the doctor's report boils down to is:
1. The pregnancy should proceed the same way a woman's would in terms of gestation, symptoms, and health concerns.
2. The best option for delivery is a C-section, which he is qualified and willing to perform.
3. Gerard probably isn't going to lactate, but should inform the doctor immediately if he starts.
He outlines a diet for Gerard to follow, recommends a few books, and gives a number for Gerard to contact him day or night, regardless of timezones,
"And that's it?" Brian asks when Gerard fills the rest of them in.
"That's it," Gerard says. "Now we just...sit tight for a five and a half more months."
The rest of the band are being fucking champs about this, if Frank does say so himself. They've all been observing the smoking ban, and not taunting Gerard by drinking caffeine in front of him when he's over his daily limit. Ray's been giving him backrubs, they've gone on endless late-night runs for whatever stupid shit he gets a craving for, and they've all generally been letting him have his way in just about everything.
Gerard's starting to look a little thicker around the middle, but so far it just looks like he's been hitting the cheese fries a little heavily lately. He's fine on stage as long as he doesn't get too carried away with the shimmying and rests up before and after. And he's having morning sickness, but, well, to be perfectly frank, it's not like they've never had to deal with waking up to the sound of Gerard in the bathroom making noises like he's dying.
It's not until a few days before the last show of the tour that Frank goes to fetch something from his bunk while Gerard's changing in front of his and notices--
"--Dude. You've got a bump."
"Huh? Oh, yeah," Gerard looks down at the curve under his belly button, a roundness that's somehow more...specific than plain old extra weight would be. "Kinda neat, huh?"
Frank walks over and bends down, studying the little bulge up close, and then pokes it with a finger.
"Don't!" Gerard squeaks, swatting his hand away.
"Dude," Frank says. "Dude. You've got a baby in there."
Gerard gives a tiny, soft smile. "I know."
Being off tour for the next two years or so is weird.
Being off tour while your male lead singer is going on six months pregnant is even weirder.
Everyone who's in Jersey still hangs out a lot, once they get over the novelty of not having to spend every day together. They've been playing around with some stuff that might end up on the next album--nothing serious yet, because Ray knows them all, especially himself, well enough to know that the second they start thinking seriously about the new album, they'll end up in the studio months ahead of schedule and their girlfriends/wives will all leave them.
But he still takes his guitar over to Gerard's place and jams sometimes, because seriously, what else is he gonna do for the next year?, and one of those informal jam sessions comes to an early end when Gerard suddenly winces a little, then grabs Ray's hand and puts it over the growing curve at his middle.
"Dude, what--oh. Oh." Ray looks down at his own hand, eyes wide. "Is that--?"
Gerard nods. "I've been feeling it for a while, but it's getting easier for other people to feel, now."
"That's...amazing, man," Ray says, because it is. The baby kicks again under his hand, and Ray can't help it, he grins.
Gerard's not just smiling, he's fucking glowing. "I'm gonna go call Lyn."
While being completely supportive of Gerard's decision to have his magical baby, Bob's...not really sorry to miss out on the last few months of the pregnancy. He feels like he's getting all the inclusion he needs from constant updates from the other guys.
Lindsey's off tour herself now, keeping a low profile but allowing herself to be seen in public in a baggy hoodie just often enough. They've got a date set for Gerard's C-section, and Brian's working on pulling the strings necessary for a safe but private home delivery.
Bob flies in from Chicago a few days before, to find Gerard huge, cranky, and even more prone to histrionics than usual. Mostly he sits on the couch and whines at people to bring him stuff, which he always did, really, but now people mostly get him what he wants instead of telling him to get it himself.
The big day finally comes, and Gabe Saporta's kind-of-weird doctor friend shows up to perform the operation. Lindsey stays in the bedroom with Gerard, holding his hand, while Mr. and Mrs. Way sit out in the living room, looking, all told, pretty passive about the fact that their son is having a baby. Mikey, on the other hand, looks faintly queasy, and spends most of the time breathing shallowly and clinging to Alicia's hand while she mostly looks amused.
When it's all over, biological family files into the bedroom first, followed, after a while, by the rest of the band.
Gerard's propped up on a mound of pillows, and there's a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket cradled securely in his arms. He looks tired, but he beams at them all, and pushes the blanket back enough to show the baby's face.
"Isn't she perfect?" he whispers.
The baby is unbelievably tiny and adorable, scrunched-up face and wispy dark curls and one tiny fist showing above the folds of the blanket.
Bob can feel the smile starting on his own face, and he's pretty sure Ray and Frank are both a second away from crying.
"Yeah," he says, for all of them. "Yeah, she is."
The baby stirs a little and makes a squeaky noise, and Gerard looks down, patting her gently.
"And she's mine," he adds, sounding awed. "She came from me."
She did, Bob thinks. And weird as it is...looking at the finished product, he can't think of it as anything but totally awesome.
Elena Michelle Ballato-Way gets baptized at a fairly small ceremony, just close family and friends. Unsurprisingly, Mikey gets asked to be godfather, and, also unsurprisingly, he accepts.
At the party afterwards, Lindsey spends a lot of time holding Elena and showing her off, looking every inch the proud mother in a dress with just the right amount of extra padding to look like pregnancy weight that hasn't been lost yet. But when Elly starts fussing and Lyn can't get her to settle, Gerard swoops in with a smile and a "Want me to take a turn?"
Mikey settles on the sofa next to Gerard, leaning over his brother's shoulder to make faces at Elly until she gurgles and smiles at him.
"Mikey?" Gerard asks after a moment. "Do you think this is gonna be weird?"
Mikey just looks at him.
"...I mean, obviously, it's weird," Gerard goes on. "What I mean is...everyone who knows seems pretty accepting of the whole thing, but do you think that's gonna last? You think they're just gonna treat her like a normal kid and not, like, a freak of nature?"
"We'll, I'm not gonna treat her like a normal kid," Mikey says. "I'm gonna treat her like she's special, because she is."
Gerard smiles. "Yeah, she is. So...weird, but in a good way, then?"
"Yeah." Mikey reaches around, letting Elena wrap one tiny hand around his index finger. "I mean...this is just how it is, now. This is our family."
Fandom: Bandom (MCR plus the odd member or another band).
Rating: R-ish for language
Pairings: Gerard/Lyn-z
Wordcount: 2496
Summary: Bob scratches his beard bemusedly. "...I'm sorry, go back to the part where you think you're pregnant?"
Warnings: Ahaha. Mpreg, crack, magical handwavy non-science. Possibly the most ridiculous thing I've ever written?
Gerard's three months along when he tells the others.
None of them believe him, of course. He expects that, and hauls out the tests.
"I did, like, ten of them before I believed it myself," he says, while Brian holds one of the tests and squints at the little display window. "And I've got some more if you want to, like, watch me do one, only I might need to drink something before I can pee again."
"...Do I want to know how you got your hands on more than ten pregnancy tests?" Brian asks. "I mean, please tell me you didn't go out and buy them yourself."
"I have my ways," Gerard says, and then glances around at the others. "I wanted to tell you guys first thing, after Lindsey. I told her first 'cause I'm pretty sure it's hers."
No one says anything for a long, long moment.
Bob scratches his beard bemusedly. "...I'm sorry, go back to the part where you think you're pregnant?"
What had happened, okay, was that during the short break they'd had over Christmas, he and Lindsey had talked about kids.
"I do want them, eventually," she'd said. "I just...wish that having them wouldn't mean taking so much time off from performing. And I don't want to do it until we can commit to it, y'know? Not drag a baby around on tour or be absentee parents."
"Yeah, me neither," Gerard had agreed, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "And I mean, we've got time, my biological clock's not ticking that loud yet. But whenever we do it, it kinda sucks that you're gonna have to do all the hard work."
"Yeah," Lindsey said, and then craned her neck to look at him, grinning. "Too bad you can't have our babies."
"It is," Gerard replied, solemnly. "I'm even gonna be off the road for a good while coming up."
She'd laughed at him for that, and he'd gone "What?", mock-indignant. "I would totally have your babies, if I could."
"Aww, that's so sweet," she'd said, and kissed him, and...yeah, things sort of went from there.
Gerard had felt a little funny when he woke up the next morning, but he'd just figured he might be coming down with something and switched out his first cup of coffee for herbal tea.
The worst part so far are the fucking cigarettes.
Gerard didn't know it was physically possible to want a cigarette this badly, but he's already freaking the hell out about having smoked as much as he usually does for two and a half months before he'd started to suspect something weird was going on. And his first impulse would be to drink even more coffee to make up for the lack of cigarettes, but that's not exactly the healthiest thing for a baby, either.
A baby. There's a motherfucking baby inside his body (exactly where, he has no idea, unless he's spontaneously grown a uterus), and it's simultaneously the coolest, scariest, and downright weirdest thing that's ever happened to him.
The best thing, so far, is how willing to pamper him everyone's been.
"Hey," Frank says, coming into the lounge with Ray and Bob behind him. "We got you some more nicotine gum. Like, a lot of it. And, uh, let us know if you start getting any weird cravings?"
"I don't think I get those 'til later," Gerard informs him, and makes grabby hands at the gum.
"Okay, so." Mikey finally emerges from the bunks, where he's been on the phone. "I had to call in a lot of favors, but I think I can get you in touch with a doctor in South America who knows how to handle this."
"...Why the fuck is there a doctor anywhere in the world who knows how to handle male pregnancy?" Ray asks.
Mikey shrugs. "I guess Gee's not the first man in the world to get magically pregnant."
"How exactly did you find out about this guy?" Brian asks, suspicious.
Mikey shrugs again. "From, y'know, people."
Brian's eyes narrow. "What kind of people?"
Mikey mumbles something indistinct.
Brian cocks an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
Mikey sighs in defeat. "...Gabe Saporta?"
"...You told Gabe Saporta about me being pregnant?" Gerard shrieks.
Mikey throws his hands up. "Who else was gonna believe me?"
"What if he tells other people?" Gerard demands.
"Who else is gonna believe him?" Mikey counters.
Bob raises his hand. "Uh, question? Why does Gabe know a male pregnancy doctor?"
"I asked him that," Mikey says, placidly. "He asked me if I really wanted an answer. Turns out I don't. Anyway, Gee, he says this guy ought to be able to steer you through the whole pregnancy. Assuming, y'know, that you want to go through with it."
Everyone looks at Gerard, who puts a hand on his stomach almost defensively, and looks over at Brian with big eyes.
Brian looks back at him for a moment, stony-faced, and then facepalms, sighing. "We're gonna have one hell of a cover-up job on our hands..."
"But we should be off the road before I start to show that much," Gerard says.
"Assuming you gestate at the same rate a woman would," Brian points out, and makes an I-can't-believe-I'm-having-this-conversation face. "Look, I can't make this decision for you. I'm not gonna...treat your baby like it's just an inconvenience for me, for Christ's sake. Even though it is inconvenient."
Gerard beams at him. "I already talked things over with Lyn--she's fine with taking time off, and wearing baggy clothes and stuff, so we can make it look like she had the baby." He pauses, looking down at his stomach. "I know this is...really, really fucking weird, and I know it's gonna be a headache, but...I want to have my baby."
"Fine," Brian says, resigned, and then starts counting off on his fingers. "Healthy food. As much of a healthy sleep cycle as you can manage. No smoking on the bus, from anyone. Be extremely fucking careful when and where you talk about this--the fewer people who find out, the better. If we're doing this, let's do it right, people."
Mikey flips his Sidekick open again. "Gee, I'm gonna forward that doctor's contact info to your phone, okay? Oh, also--when do you think we should let Mom and Dad know?"
Gerard makes a strangled noise and buries his face in the couch cushions.
Lindsey flies out as soon as she can and goes straight from the airport to the bus, pulling Gerard into a tight hug before she even says hi to anyone else.
"I love you, and I will totally have the next one," she says.
"I love you too," Gerard says, clinging just a little before he steps back. "You want coffee? I need to cut down on caffeine, but Brian helped me work out how much is safe to me have."
"I can make it," Lindsey says, intercepting him on the way to the coffee maker and waving him towards the tiny kitchen table. "You sit down, mister, you're in a delicate condition."
Gerard makes a face, but obeys, while Lindsey heats up the half a pot that's sitting there and finds two vaguely clean mugs.
"Hey," she says, catching sight of a piece of paper stuck to the fridge. "You thinking about names already?"
"Huh?" Gerard looks over. "Oh, yeah, I asked the guys if they had any suggestions."
"The 'boy' column has Mikey, Ray, Frank, Bob, Brian, and James and the 'girl' column has Michelle, Ramona, Frances, Roberta, Brianna, and Jamie." Lindsey sips her coffee. "And Elena."
"...Yeah," Gerard says, and Lindsey bends over and kisses the top of his head, smiling.
Gabe's doctor from South America flies up to the States a few days later and examines Gerard in private. Nobody asks too much about the mechanics of how Gerard is pregnant, because there's only so much weirdness they're prepared to handle.
What the doctor's report boils down to is:
1. The pregnancy should proceed the same way a woman's would in terms of gestation, symptoms, and health concerns.
2. The best option for delivery is a C-section, which he is qualified and willing to perform.
3. Gerard probably isn't going to lactate, but should inform the doctor immediately if he starts.
He outlines a diet for Gerard to follow, recommends a few books, and gives a number for Gerard to contact him day or night, regardless of timezones,
"And that's it?" Brian asks when Gerard fills the rest of them in.
"That's it," Gerard says. "Now we just...sit tight for a five and a half more months."
The rest of the band are being fucking champs about this, if Frank does say so himself. They've all been observing the smoking ban, and not taunting Gerard by drinking caffeine in front of him when he's over his daily limit. Ray's been giving him backrubs, they've gone on endless late-night runs for whatever stupid shit he gets a craving for, and they've all generally been letting him have his way in just about everything.
Gerard's starting to look a little thicker around the middle, but so far it just looks like he's been hitting the cheese fries a little heavily lately. He's fine on stage as long as he doesn't get too carried away with the shimmying and rests up before and after. And he's having morning sickness, but, well, to be perfectly frank, it's not like they've never had to deal with waking up to the sound of Gerard in the bathroom making noises like he's dying.
It's not until a few days before the last show of the tour that Frank goes to fetch something from his bunk while Gerard's changing in front of his and notices--
"--Dude. You've got a bump."
"Huh? Oh, yeah," Gerard looks down at the curve under his belly button, a roundness that's somehow more...specific than plain old extra weight would be. "Kinda neat, huh?"
Frank walks over and bends down, studying the little bulge up close, and then pokes it with a finger.
"Don't!" Gerard squeaks, swatting his hand away.
"Dude," Frank says. "Dude. You've got a baby in there."
Gerard gives a tiny, soft smile. "I know."
Being off tour for the next two years or so is weird.
Being off tour while your male lead singer is going on six months pregnant is even weirder.
Everyone who's in Jersey still hangs out a lot, once they get over the novelty of not having to spend every day together. They've been playing around with some stuff that might end up on the next album--nothing serious yet, because Ray knows them all, especially himself, well enough to know that the second they start thinking seriously about the new album, they'll end up in the studio months ahead of schedule and their girlfriends/wives will all leave them.
But he still takes his guitar over to Gerard's place and jams sometimes, because seriously, what else is he gonna do for the next year?, and one of those informal jam sessions comes to an early end when Gerard suddenly winces a little, then grabs Ray's hand and puts it over the growing curve at his middle.
"Dude, what--oh. Oh." Ray looks down at his own hand, eyes wide. "Is that--?"
Gerard nods. "I've been feeling it for a while, but it's getting easier for other people to feel, now."
"That's...amazing, man," Ray says, because it is. The baby kicks again under his hand, and Ray can't help it, he grins.
Gerard's not just smiling, he's fucking glowing. "I'm gonna go call Lyn."
While being completely supportive of Gerard's decision to have his magical baby, Bob's...not really sorry to miss out on the last few months of the pregnancy. He feels like he's getting all the inclusion he needs from constant updates from the other guys.
Lindsey's off tour herself now, keeping a low profile but allowing herself to be seen in public in a baggy hoodie just often enough. They've got a date set for Gerard's C-section, and Brian's working on pulling the strings necessary for a safe but private home delivery.
Bob flies in from Chicago a few days before, to find Gerard huge, cranky, and even more prone to histrionics than usual. Mostly he sits on the couch and whines at people to bring him stuff, which he always did, really, but now people mostly get him what he wants instead of telling him to get it himself.
The big day finally comes, and Gabe Saporta's kind-of-weird doctor friend shows up to perform the operation. Lindsey stays in the bedroom with Gerard, holding his hand, while Mr. and Mrs. Way sit out in the living room, looking, all told, pretty passive about the fact that their son is having a baby. Mikey, on the other hand, looks faintly queasy, and spends most of the time breathing shallowly and clinging to Alicia's hand while she mostly looks amused.
When it's all over, biological family files into the bedroom first, followed, after a while, by the rest of the band.
Gerard's propped up on a mound of pillows, and there's a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket cradled securely in his arms. He looks tired, but he beams at them all, and pushes the blanket back enough to show the baby's face.
"Isn't she perfect?" he whispers.
The baby is unbelievably tiny and adorable, scrunched-up face and wispy dark curls and one tiny fist showing above the folds of the blanket.
Bob can feel the smile starting on his own face, and he's pretty sure Ray and Frank are both a second away from crying.
"Yeah," he says, for all of them. "Yeah, she is."
The baby stirs a little and makes a squeaky noise, and Gerard looks down, patting her gently.
"And she's mine," he adds, sounding awed. "She came from me."
She did, Bob thinks. And weird as it is...looking at the finished product, he can't think of it as anything but totally awesome.
Elena Michelle Ballato-Way gets baptized at a fairly small ceremony, just close family and friends. Unsurprisingly, Mikey gets asked to be godfather, and, also unsurprisingly, he accepts.
At the party afterwards, Lindsey spends a lot of time holding Elena and showing her off, looking every inch the proud mother in a dress with just the right amount of extra padding to look like pregnancy weight that hasn't been lost yet. But when Elly starts fussing and Lyn can't get her to settle, Gerard swoops in with a smile and a "Want me to take a turn?"
Mikey settles on the sofa next to Gerard, leaning over his brother's shoulder to make faces at Elly until she gurgles and smiles at him.
"Mikey?" Gerard asks after a moment. "Do you think this is gonna be weird?"
Mikey just looks at him.
"...I mean, obviously, it's weird," Gerard goes on. "What I mean is...everyone who knows seems pretty accepting of the whole thing, but do you think that's gonna last? You think they're just gonna treat her like a normal kid and not, like, a freak of nature?"
"We'll, I'm not gonna treat her like a normal kid," Mikey says. "I'm gonna treat her like she's special, because she is."
Gerard smiles. "Yeah, she is. So...weird, but in a good way, then?"
"Yeah." Mikey reaches around, letting Elena wrap one tiny hand around his index finger. "I mean...this is just how it is, now. This is our family."