Making Three: Emma

[Cian Lawrence]

It was coming on Spring and Cian had never been happier. He was finally feeling...sane. More like him self and less like the half-him that he had been. Going to Hell and back (literally) apparently did quite the number on your mind and Cian's was no exception. He was getting better, though. There were still days that he felt a little off-balance, not quite all there. It was easier to suppress. It was easier, every day that he spent with his kids, every time he looked to his beautiful wife. Emma was a shining beacon through all this. Every time he so much as glanced over to her and saw her humming or flicking at a strand of hair or laughing with Maura or playing with Oliver or...anything. His heart welled up and it was like everything about him was better. Like he was completely whole again.

Especially now, when he looked at her and saw how pretty she looked with the early afternoon sun over her hair and in her eyes. Maura and Oliver were with their favorite babysitters, the Winchesters, and Cian was eager for the time alone with his wife. They were walking lazily through Central Park, hands linked, a comfortable silence spread over them. Playfully, Cian tugged Emma closer, nosing into her hair for a brief moment. His grin was wide and free as he pulled back, keeping his arm around her waist this time.

"I love you," he said airily, matter-of-factly. His eyes were set on her, smile softening a little. He tightened his hold on her for a moment, keeping her close.

[Emma Lawrence]

For The Third

He reminded her of the weather. Not any particular weather. Weather in general. It had something to do with the way he was constantly changing, but she could always rely on him to come around. When he was good, he was very good. When he was bad, he was horrible. But she loved him any which way. Good weather, bad weather. Bright and sunny was always welcomed--the way he could make his eyes sparkle, the way he could bring life to the worst of spirits. Those times when there was a storm brewing, insides filled with turmoil, the eye of the hurricane hovering over her and making her struggling to get through: those times were some of the most beautiful. Hard, but there were always calms and tumults. It brought color to their world, the one they had built together. When she could see the storm in his eyes or feel the radiance of sunlight beaming around him, or anything in between, that was when she loved him.

Over the last few months, he had been on an unpredictable and trying road to recovery. His storms had turned into natural disasters, tornadoes, monsoons. And his clear skies was like the heavens open up on him for the first time every time. Right now he was bursting with light, sparklers exploding in his eyes, glints of heat perking on the edges of his skin. She couldn't help but admire him, taking in all of him as she stood right beside him.

Before she could express herself at all, she was pulled in closer to his side, a giggle escaping her lips as he burrowed his face into her hair. She could feel his fingers individually along the curve of her waist and heat rushed to her face. Emma was always surprised how he could still manage to bring the fire after years of marriage, diapers, and hell. Hell.

He caught her by surprise with his solemnity, and she peered into his eyes, searching for truth. And finding fireworks. "I love you, too," she exchanged, pressing up to kiss him.

[Cian Lawrence]

Cian grinned as she returned the sentiment. Leaning in to her kiss, he deepened it, arms slipping around her waist and holding her close to his chest. He loved Emma's size, and how she fit against him, how her head tilted up to meet his. And he loved having her this close to him, so that he could feel her heart beat and the heat on her cheeks.

His hands spanned over her lower back as he broke the kiss, resting their foreheads together. "Good," he answered with a grin. "Glad to hear it." His thumb swept lovingly over the arch of her cheekbone. "You're beautiful, y'know that?" he murmured, almost awe-struck. He still felt like that, near-daily. Awe-struck and overcome with gratitude that she had chosen him. That they had the life they had and the kids they had...

Realizing they were still in the middle of a path in Central Park, Cian blushed a little before lacing his fingers through hers again and moving on. The kids they had... No doubt, Cian loved Ollie and Mo more than anything in the world. But he was also getting the pressured feeling. That tug in his chest telling him that he wanted more. It wasn't that Oliver and Maura weren't enough for him; not at all. It was just... Cian had so very much love to give. And he thought he might like to share with another child. And to have another child with Emma... That would simply be a dream come true.

[Emma Lawrence]

Having lost all shame in public affection, Emma felt the pressure build up inside her that forced her to crane up onto her toes just to be closer to him. This was what she had hoped for--not to make out in a park in front of a few hundred pairs of eyes, but a love that she had envied for the longest time. When she would see elderly couples eating together in restaurants, or walking ever so slowly down the way holding hands, knowing they'd been together for decades... It was something she had wanted since her body came into touch with the fact that boys were attractive. The physical pleasures and sexual satisfaction was all well and good (and it was good) but the emotional attachment and mental connection that they had made so easily and so strongly had her wrapped around his finger, tied by chains, lock, and key.

"Better be," she murmured back, rubbing noses with him, "because you're going to be hearing it a lot. Hope you won't get tired of my voice." A smile crept slowly into the creases of her face, and she curled her shoulders in, in an attempt to indicate that she needed closeness. Her eyes slipped closed for a moment and she realized that apart from their legs, they were flush against each other. But Emma still needed to be closer. There was something yanking at her that couldn't stand the separation that clothing, or even skin, imposed. It wasn't enough for her. She wanted to show her affection differently, in a more profound and intense way. The fervent need was gnawing at her, but she didn't have an answer to quench the thirst.

"You're beautiful, y'know that?"

She scoffed. "Only so long as you keep letting me know." One of her fingers traced the lines of his face, from where his hairline met his forehead, down his jaw, over his whiskers, around his mouth, down his chin. "You're even more beautiful to me."

He pulled away, and she remembered where they were, pulling back, not wanting to cause social distress to anyone. People were sensitive. As they walked on, her Empathy ticked with something very nagging and very prominent. But it was closed off, kept inside. Her eyes flickered to Cian and her Empathy made the connection, flashing red. Well, that was how it felt. It felt red. She couldn't see red, and nothing told her red, but she felt red. It was how she knew she was right.

Emma nudged her husband. "What's bothering you?"

[Cian Lawrence]

Cian grinned and answered, "Never." He could never tire of hearing her. Hearing her voice at all, but especially never of hearing her tell him that she loved him. The thought along sent a little thrill across his collarbone. They still loved each other as fully and intensely as...as the day Maura was born, the day they got married, the day they first exchanged those words, the day the first got together... And yet it seemed to continue to grow and grow, getting ever-bigger and consuming.

"I'll tell y' every day, if you like, darling," he promised softly. Everything about Emma was beautiful, her soul shining out through her skin. Emma was beautiful inside and out. He laughed and ducked his head as she returned the compliment. "Dunno about that." He was tattered on the inside, burnt around the edges and thinned out with holes in the center. He had pieces missing and tabs in the wrong slot. He could never be as truly stunning as his wife was. But he tried to be, each and every day, for her. For her, and for Oliver and Maura.

Cian pursed his lips together at Emma's question, free hand rising to paw over the back of his neck, up into his hair. "Not 'bothering' me, so much as..." He let that trail off a moment, looking to the side as he gathered his thoughts. "I've just been thinking, lately. Wondering, really, about...maybe...expanding our family again?" He met Emma's eyes then, a hesitant but brightly hopeful smile on his face.

[Emma Lawrence]

After a moment of thought, she shook her head, looking over his face again and again. "Not every day," she concluded in a purr. "I just need to know you mean it every time you say it." Swinging their arms between them, she put their upper arms together, once again blocked by the barriers of clothing and skin. She could feel the warmth curling like waves off of his skin, transferred over to her and making her shake from the inside out. As he refuted her response, she sent him a look of puzzlement and indigence. How he was was how she loved him. Even if he thought he was full of holes and patched up and broken and torn and partial. She loved him broken. Because nobody was full or whole. They all had their own scars. But it was how their scars welded together, matched up like puzzle pieces, and resisted each other that made him perfect. He gave her pleasure and challenges. She didn't want it any other way.

His face took on a different image entirely. Then his smile brought it all home. The only problem was that she didn't return one. Her eyes fixed on the ground. "Even after what happened?" she confirmed, testing him. "I thought we talked about this." All she needed was to sort out what had changed his mind. Earlier, he had been very adamant about being safe, using protection--and above all, keeping her out of the realm of pregnancy. Which she had recently come to terms with. Two was enough for her, especially when they had the two immaculate children that they did.

"What I mean is," she corrected herself, clarifying, "I just want to make sure you're not saying it out of impulse. We talked about seeing someone who might know a thing or two about this whole mutant business. And can we handle three? Especially since it hasn't been that long since you've gotten...back." To normal. To earth. To life.

Then she got to thinking about it. Another baby. Being able to hold another little human in her arms, another testament to her and Cian as one. Being able to sing to their baby, raise another Lawrence, make an addition to what was already ideal. Another little saving grace. She sighed at the delightful thoughts, a smile crossing her face. She didn't want to let him on that she was already liking the idea.

[Cian Lawrence]

Something went breathless inside of Cian at her teasing return. "How could I not mean it?" he asked, more speaking to himself. Cian was lapsed Catholic at best but it was hard for him to not believe in some divine intervention with all that he had -- all that he had been allowed to have, to get back. To keep, once he had gotten back. It was either the work of some God or extreme luck. And no scale could ever be tipped so far as to equal out the amount of good fortune he had been granted through his life. With all the people and love he had to surround himself with. And why not appreciate that luck and love? Use it a little more and bring another perfect, darling Lawrence child into this world they had?

He nodded along to Emma's doubts, understanding intrinsically what she was getting at. "We did," he concurred. The sun beat through their skin and Cian lifted their joined hands. Pulling his back from hers a bit, he fit his lips against her palm where it knit to her wrist. Seaming them back together, Cian swing their hands a little, humming in thought. He liked to know what he was saying, how exactly he was dishing his thoughts out, before he handed them to Emma. Wanted to make sure his pure intentions were clear in what he told her. "But... That was another time," he offered loosely. That wasn't all to his explanation, but he could tell Emma had more to say and so he let her.

"It's not just impulse," he assured her. "And it isn't just because... Just because I'm back. I just think..." He sighed a little, free hand drifting over the back of his neck. "I think we're ready. I think... Well, I know I want more. Not this what we have isn't enough, just that...more would be even better." Turning toward his wife, he led her off the path, to a patch of grass saturated in sunlight. "I love you, more than anything in or out of this world. Just like I love Ollie and Mo. And I just think...with all that we have..." Cian stopped for a wide grin, thinking of their family and all that it was. "I don't think we're done making miraculous kids yet." And, God, but that's what their little ones were.

Oliver was a shining beam of laughter and intelligence that surpassed the shallow genes of his biological father. Maura was brilliant in human form that had brought her Momma back to life. And three times was the charm, wasn't it? Who knew what their next child could bring them.

Cian smiled so wide it wrinkled his nose. "I wanna meet that next kiddo, Em-n-em," he murmured affectionately, pressing a kiss to her forehead, both his hands holding hers now. He nodded once more at her concerns over his condition. That was a fair thought. "I know. It's been...hard. But ever since I've been feeling better, I've... I've never been so good," he admitted. And wasn't that the truth. The past months may have been replays of Hell on Earth but ever since he had been exorcised of his demons, Cian had felt even better than his old self.

The hint of a smile flirted with Emma's lips and Cian knew he was close to winning her over, that she was seriously considering it and liking what she was thinking over. "C'mon, Emma," he egged with a boyish smile. Pulling her back onto the path, he danced her down it with him a little bit. He laughed openly before moving back to their usual stances, walking hand in hand.

[Emma Lawrence]

His supernatural and schoolboy charm was back, fishing after her even as she tried to resist the temptation that was hooked onto the line. His thoughts on the subject were valid, and she wanted to understand them as best she could, wondering if deep down she felt the same way. Being preoccupied with taking care of him recently, the subject had seldom come into her mind to begin with. Those nights when he was too exhausted to pick up his own arm, she would lean into him, letting him use her as an anchor to keep them grounded, wishing she could reach out and touch him like she used to, both affectionately and platonically. Cian was more than a carnal expression and a confidante and a dependence. He was a shining beacon of hope, of life, of something that would always be ultimate and good in her life. He wasn't unfaltering and he wasn't flawless, but she wouldn't have her life without holes and broken bits. Where she was broken, he had a knob that filled in the space. And where he was burned, she had an ointment. Eyes moving up to him, she studied the face that, over the years, had brought with him and shared with her so much of everything.

Hoping the sun blinded him from the smile that had begun to make its way across her face, she felt her hand's grip tighten on his, her ears deaf to everything but the sound of his voice. Their kids were miraculous, each their own and yet hopelessly bonded together. Beyond all logics of paternity, she was convinced no one was Oliver's father but Cian. Paternity was defined not by genetics, but by responsibility. Emma felt the swelling tension in her chest as she was reminded of how brave he had been to bear the weight of husband and father in one decision. He had always been a family man, never thinking of himself or how he might want to spend the beginning years with just the two of them as a marriage. He knew she came with baggage, and, to this day, it put her in awe of him.

Her awe accounted for her decreasing hesitance toward the idea of having more children with him. Sitting down beside him in the grass, she was finally able to get a good look at his face: bright, his dazzling hazel eyes all lit up, and she could feel him stir under his own words as he pressed down to kiss her forehead. Closing her eyes, Emma chased after him, tilting her head up and brushing a kiss onto his mouth.

Her stomach did a little flip as he murmured to her again. Her skin stood, eyes fixed on their hands, trying to push aside her unexplained bashfulness. "I do, too," she affirmed, looking to him, locking eyes and rubbing the tops of his hands with her thumbs. She let slip a little chuckle as he pulled them to their feet, taking her by surprise as they took the path into a dance. This time, a hearty laugh came from her, and she felt herself uncontrollably pulled to him. He won her before, he won her again. Every day she fell more in love with him, and continuously doubted that her feet would ever land on solid ground.

They stopped, and she couldn't help it. She had to force herself onto her toes to put one arm around his neck, the other cradling his head with her hand in his hair. Emma moved herself to be right against him as she drew him in for a long kiss, holding onto him so that he would never slip away.

[Cian Lawrence]

A youthful, wondrous smile lit up over Cian's face. "That mean what I think it does, Emma?" he asked, laughter hinting at the ends of his tone. He didn't want to pressure her into a decision or even into giving him an answer right away. "Y' don't have to let me know right now," he assured her, trying for nonchalant and falling just short of it. The excitement of what they could have had infected him already and he couldn't keep himself from imagining; as he had when they were planning for Maura. Wondering if it would be a boy or girl, whether it would have Emma's dark curls or his tow-head, if it would be Emma's soulful, deep eyes or his bright, pale eyes looking up at him one day, soon.

Her laughter made his chest jump and dance. God, he would do anything she wanted, as long as she kept laughing, kept smiling, kept looking at him like that. Give her tens of thousands of babies, live celibate for the rest of eternity, move mountains, buy bridges, change the color of the sky or pull up the very Earth beneath their feet. He couldn't think of a thing of that she could ask of him that would be too much, too difficult. And, what really made his chest swell, he knew she felt the same about him. As their spinning stopping, Cian's smile was one of pure joy. It radiated off of him, out from him, and was a direct result of being so close to this beautiful, wonderful woman.

Cian put all of himself into that kiss, as he did each and every time they kissed. It wasn't as if he could help himself, stop himself. Being as in love with his wife as he was, kissing her was second-nature to handing her soul off to her. But he wasn't worried. She had kept it safe and treasured countless times before and would continue to in the present, in the future. When the kiss broke, Cian stayed close. His forehead resting on hers, he played a hand into her curls. Battered fingers stroking at her cheeks, he gave an exhale as his eyes fluttered closed. "Oh, I love you." It wasn't so much a declaration as a truth he couldn't keep inside himself. It was so true it filled him up and strained at his edges.

[Emma Lawrence]

A deep-set part of her wanted to let him know now, despite his advice otherwise. Let him know that she was so, so in love with him, that his name was a hymn, that she would move heaven and earth to make him smile, that there was no higher honor than to have his children, that there was a hole rendered in the universe when he was gone. She wanted to feel that inescapable and fulfilling connection to him again and again, the one that couldn't be summed in anything but a child. Bits and pieces were here and there, but nothing encompassed everything she felt for him, wanted to give him, needed to show him, more than proving it with the love manifested into flesh.

Her throat seized as she heard him breathe words against her face, fingers hooking into his shirt, rubbing his scalp with the buildup of overwhelming emotion she felt sifting through her and mountain inside. All she wanted to do was breathe with him. Breathe for so long that eventually she wouldn't be able to tell the difference between their inhales and exhales. Until she couldn't take it anymore and the cosmos forced her atoms to disintegrate. Someone loved her. He loved her. And it never seemed like she could show him just how much she loved him back. The combination of words, thoughts, actions, feelings, and knowledge wasn't adequate. It was more than that. So much more. And did he know? How could he not? Her emotional capacity was stretching its skin as she felt herself build up against him again, reaching the brim of her cup waiting to spill over and flood.

Emma felt his fingers against her skin, and in a moment of blindness she lurched forward and took his lips again, kissing at first one at a time, then claiming both, her hands fierce at his strong neck, moving to the assuring sturdiness of his shoulders. He was here. That meant everything was going to be all right. Her emotions wouldn't eat her from the inside out--not if he was there to share them with her. "I love you," she prayed in return. They could go back and try for a child right now, they could stand here for hours, they could fall down and break bones and cry and scream and never move. So long as he knew she loved him.

[Cian Lawrence]

Something deep-seated and practically ancient in the life it bore wormed its way into his consciousness. Something that spoke to fate and destiny. Something that made his idealist-heart think that maybe they were written in the stars, that their love was scripted in the fabric of the universe. That they had the power to be instrumental in life before, after, beyond their own. He could believe that. With the depth of what he felt when he was with Emma, it wasn't much of a stretch. His touch over her skin was a benediction and he readily fed into her following kisses, gaining lifeblood from her touch, her breath. The sun shone and the world turned around them. The sky was blue and the buildings were tall and Emma was in his arms. All was right among the universe.

They were going to have another child.

That wasn't crass cockiness on his part. It was just more of that fate written in the fabric of things to be. He felt it deep in his being, low in his stomach, at the center of his brain and engulfing his mind. They were going to have another child and he or she was going to be another center to their three-part world. The child would complete their family and bring so much joy to them, as much joy as Oliver, as much joy as Maura, as much joy as the four of them together. It would be the picture perfect everything Cian had wanted since he had first seen Emma wander into the karaoke joint he used to do talent-scouting at.

He laughed, overcome by everything that his life was. "Oh, my Emma dear," he breathed out, smile splitting his face. Sliding his arm over her shoulders, he pulled her close, so their hips were stitched together and continued down the path. He was content to wander, through the part, into the city, back home, wherever Emma led him. A thought struck him then and he pondered out loud, "Should we include Maura and Oliver in the decision?" It wasn't as if he was going to rely on the judgment of his toddlers, but it was as much their family as his and Emma's. And sure they would have the first inklings of jealousy and obstinence but he thought they should get a gauge on how they felt on the topic. Maybe once he and Emma had discussed it further on their own, come to a more solid, tangible agreement.

[Emma Lawrence]

His laughter was a surprise, but not unwelcome. She wanted to draw that laughter out of him again and again, to watch his eyes create a sunlight of their own. It was the light that reflected in everything he did for them. The sacrifices, the rewards, the good times, and the bad. It all pooled into his eyes and ran over, giving justification to the curious pace of her heart. Everything would be all right. After all, sand smoothed callouses. Grace glided over blistered feet. They didn't have anything to be afraid of anymore. Death wasn't something she needed to fear or conquer.

So the idea became even more attractive. It became less of an idea and more of an essence, something yet to be conceived but already there. Already real. There was a distinct separation between Emma's consciousness and what was going on around her as they began to walk again. She felt like she had been blindfolded, forced to operate on other senses, perceive other than what she could see directly in front of her. And she kept herself locked away for a little while, staying in the comforting nest of thought she and Cian had created around them. She didn't want to shield herself from the world, umbrella herself from what was actually going on outside her head, but as Cian stroked her hand and spoke to her lowly, every line between them and the real world blurred.

His question shocked her back into reality. The fantasy of their new baby faded, a little orb of light pulsing in the back of her mind. Emma replied, "Well, they're family, aren't they?" And this was a family decision. Oliver and Maura would be going through just as much change as she and Cian were, it was an addition to a family they were a part of, and it would be nice to avoid the brunt of the confusion and disapproval beforehand. Giving Cian a nudge with her hips, she kissed his shoulder through his shirt, bringing her arm over his body to rub his arm that, below, had woven their hands together.

Normally, she would have filled the silence with something, but right now, she didn't mind the comfortable silence that settled over them.