Who: Tony W and Njall S-W What: A peace offering and a talk. When: Wednesday, July 31, 2019. Evening. Where: The new W/S-W house, near Snowcap Warnings: Feels. Mostly just feels.
Tony didn't really know much about liquors, though he'd learned a lot about how to mix them from watching Cate, but he'd asked the guy at the liquor store about Icelandic drinks and the guy had sent him off with a bottle of Reyka vodka and a lime. He'd been avoiding seeing Njall, but now that he and Felix and Nat were in the new house, that was getting harder, so he was ready to just get it over with. He owed Nat's babydaddy another apology and an explanation; with bottle in hand, he'd stopped in at the house, gave Nat a kiss and a careful hug, and ventured into the kitchen to find Njall.
"Hey," he greeted the other man, sliding the bottle onto the counter and taking a seat at the kitchen table, his hands going automatically into his pocket like they did when he was unsure. It was more and more often, now; he'd always used to be sure of everything, before his world had been turned upside down in multiple ways this summer. "Late wedding present, or housewarming present, whichever you want. It's from Iceland and they melt down glaciers to make it, so it better be good. You want a drink?"
Despite having magic, somehow there was a never ending number of boxes that still needed to be unpacked. While the essentials had been put away that first day, there was still the matter of the best place to put their blended kitchenware. At the moment, he'd been doing most of the cooking anyway, but he'd still consulted with Nat about where she wanted her things. In fact, as Tony drifted in, he'd just been putting a rice dish into the oven, and turning the stove top on low. It's not like Njall was necessarily surprised to see Nat's brother there, but he'd been back from whatever sabbatical he'd taken for a couple of weeks now and they'd somehow managed to avoid one another.
Most of that initial anger at Tony's reaction had faded to a low ember, and, if he was honest, he was a little afraid that it would come back in full force when he saw the man again. Instead, all he felt was tired and maybe a little grateful for the company. There was still a faint undercurrent of trepidation, however, as he summoned a couple of shot glasses and settled them on the table. Njall sat in the adjacent chair, and took a moment to study the bottle before pouring them both a healthy measure. "Icelandic vodka covers a multitude of occasions." He smiled a little and clinked his glass with Tony's. "Skál."
After tossing a mouthful back and relishing the burn as it went back, he set it back on the table. This was harder than it had to be. They were sitting close enough that he knocked his knee gently into Tony's leg. That pull he usually felt around the twins was still there, but now that he knew what it was it was better managed. The urge to shove his tongue down Tony's throat had tempered into something more like an innocent desire just to touch. "What's up?"
Tony touched his glass silently to Njall's in response to the toast, and took a very serious sip of the vodka. It was good stuff, pretty smooth, but he wasn't even thinking about how he should tell Cate this was a good one and they should stock it at the bar. All his attention was on the heat of Njall next to him and how he wanted to lean into his side; he shoved that impulse away, knowing it for what it was, and kept his eyes on the table and his hand wrapped around his glass. "I'm sorry," he said without looking up. "I was a jerk, and -- I'm really happy for you. Stevie thinks Felix is great, so he must be, and I'm sure he'll be a great--" He swallowed back another surge of jealousy and guilt about that jealousy. "You two will be great. I shouldn't have been an asshole about it."
It sounded like every word had been pulled from someplace deep and uncomfortable within the man sitting next to him. Njall hid his thoughtful frown with another swallow of vodka before leaving it bracketed between his fingers, and pushed out a sigh as he sat back. He dragged his fingers through his hair--his own tell--and then leaned forward again. "Can't pretend it didn't hurt, or say I wasn't blindsided by your reaction, but… I think I might kind of get it. And I know it's not about me. Or, rather, it's about my decision to bring someone else into Zarya's life. Objectively, I realize this was probably a real dick move, so I guess I'm trying to say that I'm sorry too. But, Tony"--another sigh--"I'm her dad. I'm always going to be her dad. And sometimes I'm going to make the wrong choices, but marrying Felix wasn't one of them."
"I know," Tony answered, testier than he wanted, and immediately winced and softened his tone. "Sorry. Again." He took another, larger sip of his vodka, swallowing fast to push down the lump in his throat. "Look, I get that she's yours and I don't have any right -- but that first day Nat and I found out she was pregnant, I was already ready for her. I loved her. The very first day. You weren't in the picture, and…" He reached for the bottle again, topping off his glass. "I was going to be to her what Uncle Jesse was to us. You know, we knew he wasn't our father, not really, but he was our dad in every way that mattered. I wanted her so much. And then you came back and suddenly she had a dad, but I wasn't really jealous then, because you loved her just as much, and she was part of you."
Tony shook his head and sipped again, trying to shore up his voice, which had gone tight and thready. "But now… I am jealous, Njall. Of what he's gonna get to be to her, how she's gonna think of him as her dad, and -- I know it's really damn selfish and awful, but that's how I feel. I know it's not his fault, or your fault, or anybody's fault but mine for thinking like this." He looked down again at his hands tightly clasped in front of him, his vision blurred by the tears he was keeping from falling by stubborn willpower alone.
For several moments, Njall didn't say a word. What could he say? Everything that came to mind would either seemed trite or hurtful, and that was the last thing he wanted. The silence stretched taut between them, going on for at least three beats too long. The fact that Tony couldn't even say Felix's name again was so telling, and it made a part of him churn with indignation. He tossed back the rest of his drink, but didn't go for a refill. Last thing either of them needed was for alcohol to make them do something stupid and regrettable. Finally, something came to him, and it wasn't from a place of anger. He leaned further in still and moved his hand across the table--his movements slow, like he was dealing with a skittish patient--before he put it across Tony's wrist in a loose hold. "You can be anything you want to be to Zarya. Don't you know that? I never want to get in the way of that, and I know Felix doesn't either." Njall gave him a lopsided smile. "You're the Tony W, after all. No one can replace you."
"Am I?" Tony's eyes were still cast down, but he turned his hand over under Njall's, letting his fingers brush over his wrist. He rubbed his thumb absently along the edge of Njall's hand, hardly aware he was doing it; it just felt so natural to be touching him. "I don't know what that means," he admitted, low, and swiped his other hand across his eyes before tipping back the rest of his drink. "Almost everything I thought I knew about myself is tipped on its head now." He sighed, bending his head low. "I know I'm gonna have a place in her life. But I can't be her dad, like Jesse was to us, and I -- I really want to be a dad."
Now that it was evident that Tony wasn't going to shove him away for reaching out, Njall pressed his other hand against the other man's forearm. He didn't even blink at that little caress along his hand. It just felt familiar and needed. There was no part in the interaction that even began to raise any alarm bells. "Tony," his voice was pitched quietly as he leaned in further, "you will be. I know you will. I've seen your heart. It's too big for just you. It was always meant to be shared. And don't you have a couple of people who want that for you too?"
Tony shuddered all over at that, and his shoulders hunched. "Kent doesn't," he said to their joined hands. His heart ached all over again at the memory of that conversation and how strained everything had been among the three of them ever since. "Cate does. And she'd be such a good mom, but it doesn't work without him. So I don't… I don't know. I think I have to choose, the two of them or being a dad, because he would do it for us, but kids deserve parents who really want them, Njall. I can't -- we grew up thinking our parents didn't want us and -- I wouldn't do that to a child."
He didn't want to let go of Njall's hand, that grounding connection, so he concentrated on the bottle again, used that water-connection he'd been practicing to cause the vodka to fountain out of the bottle, not a drop going astray as he spun a shot into a clear, shimmering ball hovering in front of his face. "Zarya is so lucky," he told him, his fingers moving absently over Njall's. "I know you weren't planning on her, but you want her so much, don't you? I can just see it, how you talk about her, how you light up when you're thinking about her." Tony sniffed and tilted his head, opening his mouth to swallow the floating vodka shot whole.
The feat was impressive, but entirely secondary to the pain radiating off his friend. It pulled at Njall's heart, prompting him to use their joined hands to tug Tony into a hug. He had to press his lips together as he slid his arm around Tony's shoulders, just to keep his own tears at bay. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, because he was. He really, genuinely was. It was awful, not feeling wanted. Njall had his own abandonment issues, but not the years to back them up. It had hurt to think his dad was dead, but knowing that he'd just left had curdled that faint sadness into acrid and pointed anger.
After taking a moment to collect himself, Njall pressed on. "You're right, I do want Zarya. I want her for selfish reasons, but also because I think she's going to be the most amazing person. And whatever kids you have--well, they're obviously going to take over the world and change it for good. That's how this works, right? You deserve to be a dad, even if the path that gets you there wasn't what you imagined or even necessarily want right now. But I believe down to my core that it's going to happen for you. And I think you should start believing that. In the meantime, however, you have my full and tacit permission to love Zarya as much as you need to, okay?"
The hug was something Tony needed more than he'd known, and he sank his head down onto Njall's shoulder, melting into his arms like he belonged there. His head was already fuzzy with alcohol and emotion, and he was forgetting that it was dangerous to get too close to another water being, but he was also too wrung out from the past few weeks to do anything more than cling to Njall with pathetic gratitude.
"Of course she is," he said muffledly into Njall's shirt. "She's half Wyrzykowski. She's gonna be incredible." He sniffed again and let go, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes again. "I don't know if any of that is true, or how, but thanks. I really hope you're right." He sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "I've loved her since I knew she existed. I was the first person to love her. Nat wasn't -- she wasn't sure at first. But I loved her, and I couldn't stop if I tried."
His hand set up a steady rhythm against Tony's back, and for just a second he imagined doing this with his daughter. And then a second after that he started missing Felix like crazy and wishing he wasn't in another hemisphere right this very second. "I know, Tony, I know. No one's taking that away from you, and Zarya's going to know it too. And you're going to fall head over heels for you own too. And when she comes, we'll figure this out, okay? You, me, Nat, and Felix. I don't know what it's going to look like, but I know we're just nutty enough to make it work." Njall paused for a moment. "Are we good? Are you gonna be okay with Felix?"
"Yeah," Tony agreed, cracking an eye open to look earnestly at Njall. "I meant it, you know. That you two are gonna be so good. I can tell these things, I'm the best matchmaker. I didn't matchmake you. But I still know." He reached for the bottle again now that he wasn't touching Njall anymore, pouring himself just another half of a shot and considering it for a moment before tipping it back. "We've still got a month until she's here, and you have your honeymoon, right? But after that I'll make up with Felix and -- just tell him I'm sorry, too, okay? I was an asshole. I'm gonna buy you both flowers or something."
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it in favor of covering Njall's hand with his own again, just for a moment. "I really want Zarya to be happy," he told him. "She's gonna have everything. I know you'll give her everything, too. And we'll both be here for Nat."
As much as he wanted to dismiss the offer of apology on his husband's behalf, it really was owed. Njall smiled instead and watched as he took another drink. "It's gonna be an intense month, that's for sure. Totally worth it, though. I'll see if I can sneak some information from the herbology department on those flowers, though." He winked in Tony's direction. "And, yes, absolutely. One big happy support system. And family, of course." Leaning in, he reached under the table and patted Tony's knee. "Stay for dinner. I'll help you finish off that bottle."
"Yeah, okay." Tony sighed again, licking the last bit of vodka from his lips. "Even though I probably already had too much. How many was that? Three? I'm gonna have such a headache in the morning. I'm still a lightweight." He shifted, pressing his leg into Njall's touch, and looked up at him again. "Hey," he said, his tipsiness making him curious enough to say what he probably should have just left well enough alone, "did you ever think, before Felix, did you ever think maybe you and I--"
His phone buzzed again, and he absent-mindedly pulled it out of his pocket to thumb the device unlocked and glance at his notification. His face went instantly pale and shocked, his mouth dropping open. Tony fumbled with the phone, but it slipped out of his clumsy hands and skidded across the floor. "Shit!"
"And here I was under the impression that you did everything well." Njall chuckled, but his smile faded as Tony went on in that ponderous tone that usually meant very little that was good and/or advisable. They were saved by his phone, but maybe not saved by its contents based on the reaction they received. He cast an off-hand summoning spell, but kept his eyes on Tony. "What? What is it?"
Tony swallowed, trying to force some moisture down his suddenly-dry throat. "Cate," he croaked, and then cleared his throat and tried again. "It's Cate. She got splinched."
The phone came gently to the table, landing next to Tony's hand. Njall barely paid it any mind, not when he was jerking back in surprise. "What? How? Where is she? Is she okay?"
"I don't--" Tony stood up, and swayed dangerously before catching himself on the table. "Medical. Mateo's got her. The magic at the Kestrel keeps backfiring and somehow she got -- oh, god, I have to go there." He typed in a quick response, though it took him two tries to get something close enough that autocorrect picked up on the single word he was trying to send, and shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Do you have floo set up yet? I don't think I should apparate."
Njall waved a hand dismissively as he stood as well. "I've had less than you, I'll side-along you there. Perks of being Medical is you get to bypass wards. Let's get you to your girlfriend."