Fatherly Advice [Lion]

[Zero Undead]

This had to have been, hands down, beyond a doubt, the most eventful day of Matt’s life. Not even his graduation from the ATC could top this day on the scale of exhausting as fuck. Everything had kind of run together non-stop since yesterday evening when he’d opened up that mysterious package containing baby shoes, a sonogram, and a card explaining that Lukabelle was pregnant and keeping the baby.

Last night had left him understandably stressed the hell out. Finding out you were going to be a father in roughly seven months would be a shock to any guy’s system, right? Of course it was a perfectly reasonable and valid response to be a bit freaked out by the news. Hell, he was barely more than a kid himself.

Even more perfect had been getting a text from yet another vexingly confounding woman. Heather was hot and cold. The undisputed bitch queen of the ATC currently, and he had slept with that hot mess. It wasn’t that he really regretted doing her. She’d been a good lay and despite her rough and grouchy personality Matt actually liked Heather. There was way more to her than she let on, and he liked getting a tiny glimpse behind that wall she liked to put up.

Matt replayed the events of the day through his mind. Early that morning he had hunted down the return address attached to the package. Lukabelle had been very surprised to see him, but they had needed to talk immediately, because having a baby together was kind of really important. It had been a bit of a wild ride, spending the day with the future mother of his child. Lots of baby talk, lots of baby shopping, and a surprising amount of emotion and resistance at first. She seemed to think she had ruined his life with this mistake and assumed he’d want to sweep the whole thing under the rug.

It had taken a little while, but he’d finally convinced her (he hoped) that he had every intention of being fully involved in raising his child. At least they seemed to part on good terms and with a promise that there would be no more keeping things from him in concern to their baby.

After that had been off to Haviah, informing his father, who slapped the back of his head and called him an idiot (deserved), gathering the Yule presents he had stashed there, and then heading to the ATC. Giving out gifts and eating with Heather had been almost normal. Telling Heather about his upcoming offspring had been interesting, and surprisingly she still had sex with him afterwards, which he had not been expecting before telling her that he’d knocked up another woman.

One late rail ride back home and he had one more hurdle to jump before he felt like he could even begin to relax. As soon as the rail pulled into the station at Adstreia he headed to his commander’s apartment. Somehow he was more nervous about telling Grisham than he had been telling his father. He took a deep breath after knocking and was practically squirming as he waited.

“Can we talk?” He blurted as soon as the door opened.

[Lion]

Yule was coming up and for the first time in a long time Grisham actually had things to do that didn't just involve finding excuses to make more work for himself. There were still the waning days, when he remembered the Wall, and that this was yet another Yule Isaak would be missing. He'd have to remember to visit him again before long, kiss and clean the name off where dust tended to collect in the crevices.

Maybe later today if he had the time. The day had been waning, and he'd gotten a message from Matt earlier that day that he wanted to drop by. Of course he wasn't going to turn him away, even if the project he'd been working on for the last two months had been promptly shoved away into a closet and under a sheet. The main parts were finished, all he needed were the finishing touches. A slap of sealant on that thing and he was positive it'd get a standing ovation.

Or so he hoped.

Yule being right around the corner didn't help either.

Grisham had been pulling a casserole out of the oven when he heard the knock at his door and he strode over to answer it. Weird to think that not even a month before his entire apartment was covered in mud. The recovery had been...well a trying task. At least the couch could be saved, the mattress though, may that rest in peace.

Grisham cracked his neck and carefully opened the door, about to open his mouth for an obligatory greeting when - true to his name - Chatterbox beat him to the punch. "Well, hell, don't let me stop you. C'mon in," he muttered and gestured Matt inside. "Coffee is brewing. Want some? Of course you do. Take a seat, bub."

Not waiting for him to settle down, Grisham shut the door and fixed tow cups of hot coffee with just a dash of cream in either one before settling the cups in front of either one of them.  "Hungry? Want food?"  He didn't force that issue. That casserole was going to get eaten one way or another, if it was not from him or Sparrow, Pixie was definitely going to eat it.

"So what's on your mind Chatterbox?"  He settled down into the stool just in front of the bartop stool and pulled the cup close to him. He relished the warmth of it, curling his fingers around the temperature and taking a deep sip, letting the heat wash through him. Yeah it was missing a kick. Grisham took out the flask he'd had in his sweatpants pocket and unscrewed the top, throwing in a dash of brandy one of each. Maybe it wasn't Matt's flavor but the boy would learn to like it.

"Gives it a kick. Helps calm your nerves. Because even without being an empath, that's clear as day from here," he commented. Then promptly raised his mug and clanked it against Matt's. "Cheers."

[Zero Undead]

Stepping inside, Matt couldn’t even open his mouth to decline or accept the offer of coffee before Grisham decided for him. They called him Chatterbox? With nothing else to it, he took a seat and looked around for any kind of distraction. Now that he was here, breaking the news felt like the hardest thing ever.

Holy shit, were his palm sweaty? Matt rubbed his hands against his jeans; feeling like his stomach was going to just fall out at any moment. You’d think the person he’d be most nervous about telling would be his father, but nope, it was definitely Grisham. He was the newest Hellion, he looked up to and admired his commander – the last thing he wanted was to go disappointing him so fucking soon after signing on; although maybe he should have thought about that a couple months ago when he was screwing around with pretty women in coffee shops.

Oh well, too late now!

“Uh, sure? Thanks.” Honestly Matt was probably too nervous to eat, but maybe it was a good idea. It had been a long day and there was a super great chance he was going to get home and not feel like cooking anything. Instead he wrapped his hands around his mug and stared at it for a moment, trying to collect his thoughts. He didn’t want to sound completely stupid when he told him.

He watched Grisham add brandy to their coffee, thinking it wasn’t nearly enough – but no. Matt had hours to make up. Getting drunk tonight wasn’t on the menu, hell, drinking as often as he did was probably something he needed to work on before the baby came.

Oh god, he had to be a responsible adult and that thought alone was scary as fuck.

“Cheers.” Matt murmured with a nervous chuckled before taking a deep drink. It was warm and he enjoyed the little bite of alcohol.

“That obvious, eh?” Of course Grisham knew he was nervous as hell. Anyone could have seen how on edge he was today. He set the cup down and ran his fingers through his hair with a heavy sigh. Matt fished the sonogram Lukabelle had sent him out of his pocket and tried to hand it to Grisham. “I done fucked up bad, Commander.  Baby is coming in mid-July and I don’t think I’ve ever felt less prepared for anything in my life.”

[Lion]

The day that one of his squad came to his door and said they wanted to talk, Grisham couldn't say that it had to be something positive. Especially since it seemed to be news that couldn't be shared during drill time, or in the breaks in between.Whatever it was the matter clearly weighed heavily on Matt Wright's mind. The boy was young, he shouldn't have anything serious to worry about. Given that fact, it could only mean that whatever was on his mind had to be rather grave.

While he wasn't interested in coddling his squad, expecting each one to stand on their own when it came down to the nitty gritty, in the end the Hellions were still a team. A squad that depended on one another. And if Matt couldn't depend on Grisham when he needed him, then Grisham had no place on that squad.

Although his demeanor was casual, even conversational as he watched the young Pilot Cardinal with steady blue eyes, he could slowly feel his gut gradually twist, and his grip on the coffee mug was tensing. He could only ease it when at last Matt started to speak, pulling a something from out of his pocket that looked an awful like something...

Grisham's eyes shot wide, opened up like flowers budding in Margad spring, once the sonogram was slid closer to him. His eyes would be able to spot that even crumbled up and torn to bits. Slowly he pulled it toward him and  furled it open, the pad of his thumb caressing the bottom of it and he felt his breath hitch, throat tightening up, grinning down at the little image of the baby that evidently was coming mid-July.

Grisham's face split into a wide grin, his hands settling the picture into the light of his kitchen and illuminating the image more clearly.  That grin was practically ear to ear, his stomach growing wild with an intense array of butterflies that he blinked away for fear of tears sparking through. Putting the sonogram down, he handed it back to Matt.

"That's great Chatterbox. Really!" he cheered, finally taking a sip of his coffee. The grim face that gave him his namesake actually chuckled and the glee in his eyes was genuine. What for the brevity of a few seconds before Grisham's free hand came flying up from the table and struck Matt on the back of his head with a loud thwaaap!

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Of course you're not prepared for a baby. You just fucking graduated.Fucking dragon balls, Chatterbox. I'd smack you again if I thought it'd do any good. But also because I know it won't and that first hit was one hell of a satisfying smack."  Grisham's hand that was still wrapped around the cup tipped it up to his mouth, the sting of brandy burning his tongue a bit along with the coffee itself.  The scent bringing him back to his senses.

"But other than that Chatterbox, i gotta say congratulations. There's no other feeling better in the world than being a parent, amigato. You're scared. That's normal. That fear never goes away. But you're a Hellion, don't forget that. Through and through. You'll do just fine, son."