ofscots: (but sometimes it hurts instead)
[personal profile] ofscots
Discovering the truth of her parentage was nothing. She'd never aspired to be anything great, didn't want the position of ambassadress that was on the short list of suggestions in that file they'd kept on her life. Henry questioning his goodness was worse. Franco breaking it off because he wasn't sure if he truly cared for her or if it was just genetic compulsions was worse. Nicol withdrawing almost completely from her life was worse.

That was enough for her to fall back off the wagon for a few months. But like most (not all. Some took a more permanent escape from their new reality) of the Rewriters, she was resilient. Got back on again alone. It helped when Henry started smiling again. Helped when Franco told her he wanted to try anew. Nicol was still distant, but while it hurt, she understood. Kept him posted on her life in the little ways she could, went to his mother's funeral when the time came.

Things got better, after that. After a year back together she and Franco decided that, genetic compulsions or no, they loved each other and that was that. The wedding was a happy thing. Franco's business-- started with the aid of the money the government had been quietly forking over to keep all of them quiet about the whole mess that was their lives-- began to boom. They decided to go back to France where they'd first fallen in love and start their new life afresh.

And it had been so wonderful. After a while they found out she was expecting, and that was a happy thing. Then they'd gone to get some testing done, to see if their origins would have any effect on their child.

And that's when they found signs of Franco's illness, and everything had been a downward spiral since. Writing to tell her big brother of the pregnancy and of Franco's sickness was forgotten,as they first tried to fight the disease, then prepared for the end and ensuring she was well cared for after it. He told her she should go back to her family. She agreed she would.

Which is why, six months pregnant and two weeks widowed, she'll be arriving on Nicol Macintyre's doorstep.

Other than the baby, he's more family than anything else she has in this world.

Date: 2012-12-10 04:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
He'd read the emails, at first. But after his mother's funeral, it had simply gotten to be too hard to bear. Moira wasn't really family, not by blood--although Lord knew he tried not to think about blood relations overly hard since they'd found out about their DNA.

Now and then he thinks about her. About all of them, really, but mostly about Moira. They couldn't have been entirely arrangement, entirely some sort of genetic predisposition. Couldn't have been. Right? Even if they'd fallen into each other by push rather than fate in Dalkeith, that depth of love had been real, hadn't it?

He'd been pondering it, actually, when his aide told him there was a young lady he really quite needed to see. The fact that it's her arrests him completely before he even moves on to processing the fact that he clearly should have kept up with her emails.

"...\get inside./"

Let him lock the door behind her and think for a moment.

Date: 2012-12-10 04:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
As she's ushered in, she can't help but think to herself that he's doing it; pushing his way forward into what appeared to still be his dream even after their world had been turned upside down. She can't help the pride that swells up in the empty chamber where her heart used to be.

He looks tired. But then, she supposes she must, as well, after everything that's happened. For a moment she can only look at him as she rests her hand on her abdomen. The baby's fussing. It must have been the travel.

"\...I'm sorry, I know you said.../" But she can't rehash that particular hurt without blurting out the one that has so recently consumed her life. "\It's just--/"

She needs to sit down. Practically collapses into the nearest chair as her breath begins to hitch with sobs again.

"\...Franco's dead./"
Edited Date: 2012-12-10 05:44 pm (UTC)

Date: 2012-12-11 01:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
It's hard to look at her. Painful. So, for the most part, he doesn't. Slides back to his desk to pull closed the files and statistics he'd been looking over, neatens his pens and folders so that he has something to focus on while words won't come. While her words, even more painful than her face, start up.

Except then she's staggering slightly, and by genetic compulsion or old instinct or genuine love, he's back at her side, catching hold of her arm and helping her down into the chair, kneeling quietly beside her without a thought for his expensive suit, fingers staying tight even as she's safely seated to drop the second half of the bombshell.

It takes a few more stunned seconds to find the words in any language.

"\And... so you're home./"

Date: 2012-12-11 01:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
Her fingers grip tight against his, and she nods, trying to steady out her breathing so she's able to respond. It takes a few moments and rubbing her hand against her stomach, reminding herself of the reason why she can't just let the emptiness take her, before she can.

"\There's-- there's nowhere else./"

No one else to go to.

Date: 2012-12-11 06:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
Holding her hand comes completely naturally. It's as old an instinct as breathing, almost. Here, now, even with his mind whirling between wanting to pull her in tight and throw her back out, squeezing her hand between his comes without hesitation.

There's rapid calculation as he nods his head slightly, eyes flitting side to side for a moment to get his mind settled on a plan of action. They'll both survive this if there's a plan of action. They'll deal with her. He'll keep his career on track. Hell, he can spin this into a good thing, something to give him a bump in the polls if he gets out ahead of the story. Really, he should get to his aide quickly, in case anyone saw a distressed pregnant Scottish girl coming into his office.

...he can't let go of her hand. Not even to go make sure his life's work isn't wrecked.

"\We'll find you somewhere to stay in the city,/ Moira. \It'll be all right./"

Date: 2012-12-11 07:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
She knows, at least with her mind, that there's a way to survive this. That Viennois Inc. is legally and (since Franco had been good friends with many of his associates) emotionally obliged to help the widow of its founder and her unborn son, that one way or another there'll at least be enough money to get by. She's not going to go full circle and end up in the place of her childhood; her baby will have a better youth-- in an economic sense-- than his mother. Other women have been single mothers and still successful, still had successful children-- that latter point is proven by the man holding her hand now. These are things she knows in her head.

But her heart-- her heart seems to have parted this world with her husband, and the ghost of it doesn't know not to fear when so captured by grief. The ache it causes keeps the tears flowing despite the returned nod she offers, despite her trembling words.

"\I-- I know./"

And then, as she tries to pull herself back together, there's quite suddenly frustration in the way she tries to dash the tears off her cheeks with her free hand. The part of her that isn't grieving is chiding herself for coming in and intruding upon his life in the way she once promised herself she'd try not to do.

"\....I'm sorry. I shouldn't've... You've so much else going on, I--/ mm."

It's hard to breathe. Hard to think. Of course it's going to be hard to find the words to apologize. She doesn't know why she bothers trying.

Date: 2012-12-11 12:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
There's not a thing in the world wrong with a single mother. Quite frankly, from the feel of it, it might have been better Mac was raised without contact to the sort of man his mother could have provided him as a 'father.'

But that doesn't mean Moira should have to do this alone.

Then again, there's also nothing but a confused old loyalty that says she should have come to him of all people for assistance. This is the last thing in the universe he has time for. This doesn't fit into the life he has cut and scraped and carved out of the wreckage Dalkeith--and then the Project--had made of his world.

"You shouldn't have."

And he means it. The English is sharp, has an entirely unfamiliar polish to it that's been honed even further since his days at Oxford into a genuine London weapon. But.

"\But we'll fix it./" Just like they always had, before. His fingers squeeze a little tighter as he pushes up to his feet again, presses a dispassionate kiss to her forehead. "\Just... let me think./"

Date: 2012-12-11 06:44 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
The English hurts to hear, to the point where she only just hears the Gaelic that follows it. She returns the squeeze, but keeps her eyes downcast, struggling to speak, to reassure him that her interruption in his life is as temporary as it needs to be. She doesn't need to rip at his world just because hers is entirely shattered.

"\I don't.../" A breath, before she begins again in shaken English, "I shan't be a... a bother for long. I just-- I need someone until Nico's born. Then we can... go back to our own lives."

Their own, separate lives. He on the path to greatness, she raising the child who will be named after him and her husband both.

Her sweet little Nico Francis. She hopes he doesn't look so much like his father that it hurts to look into his eyes.
Edited Date: 2012-12-11 09:23 pm (UTC)

Date: 2012-12-12 08:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
There should be a follow-up. He should start laying down the ground rules, explaining exactly what they're going to be saying and doing as they settle into this life of being superficially together again.

Except she refers to the baby as Nico.

And maybe Franco's father was Nicholas or someone else in the universe inspired her to the name, but it completely arrests him from being able to move away for a moment. Completely breaks something hard in him in half.

"...Nico?"

Tell him this child was going to be named for him. Tell him he's still a piece of her life, even if they haven't spoken in ages. Tell him the love of their childhood, the non-blood family they had built, was real.

Tell him he's going to be an uncle and he's got to step up for his sister, his nephew, the family he still needed but was terrified to reach out for again.

Date: 2012-12-12 01:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
The incredulousness in his voice has her looking up at him, and as she realizes she'd completely neglected to even mention to him the name she and Franco had selected for their son, she smiles the shakiest, saddest of smiles.

"Franco-- Franco was adamant that we not actually name him Nicol. And I thought Nico Francis sounded better than the other way 'round."

Her voice cracks slightly as she speaks, and the distress of before just looks like hollowness now.

"If-- if you'd rather not the attachment I can reconsider--"

But then she'd lose any chance of even marginally having him in her life. Of immortalizing in a way the connection that she believed-- had always believed-- they'd shared. The love that, for her at least, had always, always been undoubtedly real.

Date: 2012-12-12 03:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
"\Don't be ridiculous./"

The future PM of England needs to be able to step away from his personal life, likely, but he also needs to be a human being. He needs to love his family and take care of his own. He needs to brush his fingers over his little sister's cheek as he drops back down onto his knees again.

"\I'm going to help you look after him. A name's hardly going to be too much of an attachment./"

Because if it were just that they were 'supposed to' be in proximity, 'supposed to' care for each other, then removing himself should have nixed this overwhelming emotion. The time apart should have dulled him back from the swell of devotion that washes over him as his fingers drop from her cheek to rest hesitantly on her very pregnant stomach.

"\I can't-- It's going to be complicated,/ Moira, \but--/"

But she was going to come live here. With him. Where he should have kept her this whole. Where she should have been able to run the moment her life turned haywire.

Date: 2012-12-12 11:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
There's a trembling in her shoulders that rapidly turns into a sob of both grief and relief, "Bráithre..."

For a moment it's all she can manage as the tears start to fall again. Nico, perhaps sensing his mother's distress, stirs a little more, a tiny foot pressing just briefly against his namesake's hand.

"...Nicol, \I'm so scared./" Terrified, even. Terrified and mourning and so very, very unsure of what to do.

But at least she's not alone anymore. He's reassured her of that much.

Date: 2012-12-13 01:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
The kick is almost missed. He's never wrapped his mind around the idea he might have a child to look after, a pregnant woman to see to--at least not until he'd already secured power for himself. It doesn't quite make him smile, not when he's got to lift his hands to her cheeks and wipe at tears, just like he'd done since they were barely more than children themselves.

"\I know, my pulse, I know. But you're not alone now./" She had one of the sharpest minds in the world on her side again. A touch on the ruthless side, perhaps, but incredibly devoted to her. Better to have the dragon on your side if the dragon exists, right? "\You just need to keep breathing now. Keep taking care of the baby. Let me take care of everything else./"

The government had royally screwed them over in the past. Now? Now it was going to help make Moira Scott's life safe and beautiful.

Date: 2012-12-13 02:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
She would take this dragon over any other. At least with him, she can catch at one of his hands in desperation, squeeze tightly as she tries to get herself to breathe steadily again.

"\Thank-- thank you. So much,/ bráithre."

She's going to survive this. They all are-- her, Nicol, and the baby. Her family.

Anything's survivable when one has that.

Date: 2012-12-13 04:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
"\Don't thank me./"

He doesn't deserve her thanks. Not now. Not after the fact he'd cut her out so long. He's in repentance now. He's in the making things up. He should be thanking her for coming to him despite the way he'd abandoned her.

Or maybe he should just shift up beside her to give her a tight hug.

Date: 2012-12-13 04:50 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
The hug is exactly what he should be doing. It's not quite the same fit as it used to be, of course, but the way her head nestles in against his shoulder is exactly the same as it has been since they were children.

As is the barely-heard, "\I love you/" that she can't help but murmur against his ear.

She's never doubted it. Never will.

Date: 2012-12-13 08:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
He should be able to say it back instantly. He used to be able to. Now, it takes a moment of clinging tight and remembering her in his arms.

Better to ease into it. "...I love you too, Moira. I... \I do love you./"

And always had. It hadn't hurt until just now.

Date: 2012-12-13 08:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
Love always hurts. Sometimes it takes a while to reach that point of pain, sometimes it's a constant state of agony. But that also makes it that much more real-- and sometimes makes it that much more sweeter.

It's something of both, now, "\...I know you do./"

And that meant they were going to be okay, right?

Date: 2012-12-13 10:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
"\I hope so./"

Hopes she feels it when he's holding her, at least. Hopes she understands it when he drops a kiss to her forehead, briefly rests a hand on the swell of her stomach and smooths protectively over where the boy had kicked before.

Hopes she understands that he's got to stand up and start neatening his cuffs, dusting off his knees, getting his mind whirling again. "\I'm going to need you to go to a hotel. I'll come tonight./"

Date: 2012-12-14 06:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
She understands. It's taken her the years apart to properly reconcile herself with his perspective on things, but she gets it. Will manage a calm nod as she tucks her hair back behind her ears and sets herself back to rights again.

"\D'you know which one's the closest? I'll head there./"

Date: 2012-12-14 03:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
"The Lanesborough."

It requires switching back to proper English. Which is good. Gets his head back in the game of what he's got to do. Also gets his head back into the game of behaving like the future PM of a nation rather than a nervous older brother seeing to his widowed sister heavy with child.

"They'll take good care of you there. Let them. Let Adam get a car for you. Eat something. Don't worry about the bill. Just... rest, Moira."

And let him come see her sharp and ready in the evening with a proper plan.

Date: 2012-12-14 04:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
"I will." It's a promise, difficult though the thought of just resting is. It's been a whirlwind of things to do since Franco passed, after all.

She'll need his hand to get herself back up out of the chair. Will keep a grip on it for just long enough to ask again, "And... you'll be by. Later on."

Not entirely a question. More of a confirmation, to reassure herself. This isn't going to be the last time for a long time; not again.

Date: 2012-12-15 01:43 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
Helping her up is as natural as anything. Squeezing her hand as his lips move into the ghost of one of his old smiles is a little more difficult, but it comes along after a few heartbeats.

"As soon as I'm done here. There's-- a lot to do, but-- as soon as I'm done, Moira. \I promise./ I'll be there. We'll make a plan."

This time it's easier to catch her chin and press a kiss to her forehead. Things are fitting into place again.

Date: 2012-12-15 03:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
Smiling has been hard-- at least, one that's more happy than bittersweet. Somehow, with him, she manages. Presses a kiss lightly against his cheek.

"I'll be seeing you, then."

So much sooner than the last time she'd said it. So much more of a comfort now.

Date: 2012-12-15 05:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] endsjustified.livejournal.com
Incredibly soon. The space of a few hours. And that's all it would ever be, now.

He promises.

And he also squeezes her elbow gently as he shoos her into his aide's capable hands. She'll be comfortable, safe, for these next few hours.

And she'll let him greet her properly, he hopes, when he shows up at the room's door. Let him catch hold of her and hug her tight the way he should have greeted her at her office door.

Date: 2012-12-15 07:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ofscots.livejournal.com
She'll rest as much as she can. Will let herself be taken care of, for his and for Nico's sake.

Will absolutely let him greet her properly when he arrives, and hold him as tightly as she's able.

They're back to being a proper family. She's not going to let that slip away again.

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Moira Scott | Mary, Queen of Scots

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