Who: Nealbear & Linabean What: Dark One Discussions and baby names, because the two clearly go together When: This evening Where: Neal's car, viewing the beach Rating/Warnings: Lowish Status: Complete!
Neal had a gift for Lina, and a pretty good one. Besides, you know, typical baby shit - which he had become all the more familiar with thanks to registering at the same mecca known as Babies ‘R Us - he also wanted to help make life a little easier for her during the last couple of months of her pregnancy. She probably wouldn’t feel like cooking much, so it’d be up to Pete - but he worked a lot too, so Neal decided to go ahead and order a whole fuckton of bake-at-home pies for the parents-to-be. In Costa Mesa, there was a restaurant that delivered authentic Australian pies for the lover of all things savory - filled with meat, potatoes, veggies, basically anything. There were dessert ones too, more fruity and sweet, though the crust was guaranteed to be flaky and to-die for across the board.
Best part? They were delivered to your door, you just had to stick ‘em in the oven (sounded dirty) and heat them up.
But he wanted to try out their wares, and make sure they met with Lina’s approval. That was why he picked up his ever-growing sister-from-another mister, giving her a lift in his family friendly car (driving was probably becoming more and more difficult for her; it definitely was for Emma at this point) and taking her to the pie place in question.
Besides, it would be nice to get out. They hadn’t had a chance to sit down and talk recently, and there were some new developments to go over while she likely ate an entire pie by herself.
He’d gotten the ‘Drunken Cow’ and you were sort of supposed to eat them like a hamburger. Neal would see how it went, as he rolled down the windows to let air in at their designated spot - a beach view, to take in the sunset. “Well, happy...almost-popped-out-a-kid, I guess?”
Yep, Neal Cassidy knew exactly how to reel her in - which wasn’t much rocket science, anyone who knew her could easily lure her anywhere with the promise of sustenance. Lina’s choice had been ‘Southern Comfort,’ stuffed with white chicken meat and some vegetables. A somewhat healthier choice? Well, she’d try the other ones eventually. Moderation was key at the moment, and she wanted to watch her red meat intake. Otherwise she’d get one overflowing with beef, so much fucking beef she’d be mooing out of her ass.
“This is the fucking best,” she expressed, taking a massive appreciative chomp out of hers. Such a petite body, even in ‘pregnant lady’ standards, and she could still shove food down her throat like her life was on the line. A couple chews, then a hasty swallow, and she stretched her elbow out for a nudge of approval. “Where the hell do you find these places??”
And she looked very comfortable too, with the seat leaned back just the slightest, and her stomach stuck out and she could almost use it as a table to put the hamburger-pie down if she wanted to. It was a nice convenience.
Neal’s seat was pushed back as well, and he had the keys in the ignition with the radio playing at a low volume. He would have brought the yellow bug, taken her for a spin, but they’d have more room in this four-door vehicle. More room to laze about and lounge, just watching the sunset and not really thinking or worrying about much else. Sometimes you just needed a moment or two like that.
But Lina’s stomach really did make for a fantastic space for setting plates and trays - must be so weird, to basically be carting around a bowling bowl with you all the time. Props to women, he was always just in awe. “Uh, no idea?” he chuckled, unwrapping his pie, pulling it free from its confined - oh, fuck, the smells. They were heavenly. “I think I heard someone at the ranch talking about it. Amazing how many little restaurants and shit are around, like, not the chain places - you could spend forever and not even hit them all. I’ll order a bunch for you though,” he added, once he’d taken a mouthful - and swallowed. “They deliver right to your door. Less cooking for you, the better.”
It was just so much effort, even when you weren’t knocked up and expecting to pop out a kid very soon.
It was much, much appreciated, it really was. Pete would love it, too. It’d make the last stretch of things that much easier - like hell would she want to cook anything when the spawn was using her insides as a trampoline. Right now the kicking wasn’t that uncomfortable, and the flutters were tingly and pleasant. Second trimester was about the enjoyment, right? But she was nearing the end of hers, and soon Baby Amelia’s moving would make her lose sleep at night and kick at sensitive nerves. Fun stuff.
“My fiance might want to kiss you,” grinned the sorceress, in her very signature and cheeky way. “Thank you, though. Really, this is awesome.” Now they’d have to come up with something for him and Emma, too. Considering they were on the same boat, and going through basically the same exact motions.
Though, with that in mind…
Piglet tendencies pausing for now, she set that meal on her stomach, atop the tinfoil. It’d rest there for now. “Ah - by the way, are you okay? Emma told me about the dream thing, the Dark One situation…” Lina’s words came out a little cautious. It was sensitive stuff - Neal didn’t seem like he could shake that entire mess, even from beyond his dream grave. “She gave me the go to mention it to Zee. See what the cards said?”
Neal shrugged, taking a moment to rub his forehead - yep, there you go, just slide the incoming migraine away. That sort of tended to happen whenever he considered the Dark One conundrum - they’d been given some news, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “Yeah, Em went to her house and had her cards read,” he confirmed, uncapping his root beer and taking a long swig.
Once he swallowed, he attempted to put everything into words. “Zatanna said that, you know, the darkness is coming - “ Neal even made it extra ominous, for dramatic effect, “...that it’s pretty much inevitable. But it’s not going to happen to Emma. It’s going to happen to someone else.”
Which they had no fucking clue about. The theory was that the tornado of a Dark One’s Curse would try to take Regina, like it supposedly had in the dreams, but then what? Would it actually succeed?
Lina’s nose did a displeased rabbit-wiggle. Ominous news wasn’t the best news, but with it came the relief that if - and when, technically, since there seemed certainty in that - the darkness came back to grace the OC with its presence, it wouldn’t go to Emma or Little Cassidy-Swan II.
“Seems like it’d logically choose the person it had initially picked, before Emma took it for herself,” she mumbled, biting her lip in thought. “It’s the obvious outcome, isn’t it? But we know from experience that curveballs happen.” Hell, she could have sworn she’d been responsible for world obliteration, and instead became the host for the embodiment of chaos, everyone spared, and was returned because said primordial deity had a capricious nature. “There’s always more than what’s in plain sight, and there’s always something we’re missing. A crucial piece of information. It’d be too easy otherwise, and this place doesn’t always give us easy.”
But it didn’t always give them something impossible to deal with, either. Difficult beyond fucking reason, sure, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.
“It hardly ever gives us easy,” Neal grumbled, back of his head hitting the seat as he slumped a little. The root beer went into the drink holder in the center console, and he started picking at the delicious, overstuffed pie again. “From what the cards foretold, I mean, according to what Emma relayed - I would expect a curveball. As much of a curveball as anyone can even expect.”
Could you? Could you really? It was basically prepping for something, yet they had no clue how. All they knew was that someone was going to be screwed, and engulfed by darkness, shit would get turned on its head - but naturally they didn’t have specifics.
As for what they were missing, Neal knew it was something too. But he couldn’t even begin to fathom what. “So now I think they’re looking into sealing spells - Emma said something to trap the dark magic, especially if it’s out there ready to find a new vessel.”
Preparations could be made until your face turned blue, but whatever cosmic power behind the strange occurrences of this place seemed to get their rocks off by surprising them in the worst ways possible. Still, working towards something was better than rolling over and letting this place plow your hopes and dreams away.
“A living vessel or non-living vessel?” Hopefully a non-living one, maybe, like they’d done with the phony Philosopher’s Stone. “I have a containment jar from the dreams - it’s supposed to be able to hold souls for any sort of transference, or even a disembodied soul in a limbo from death. It was tough enough to hold the ghost of a dark lord and the soul of a dead priest,” Lina explained, picking up the pie. No bite yet, she was still thinking. “If you guys want to use it, it’s there. I’m just using it as a cookie jar for the moment.”
Hellmaster’s Jar, now housing things like pralines and oreos. Technically the psychotic fucker didn’t make it - it was just titled after him due to the nature, she guessed - but she took a certain glee defiling anything named after that little shit. But she thought it’d come handy at some point. “It’ll be stronger than the stone Ed and I made, but then you run the risk of that thing breaking for whatever reason, and going apeshit like last time.”
“Definitely non-living,” Neal said hastily. There was no way he was going to advocate for a person becoming the vessel for this primordial darkness that had been around for centuries upon centuries. That just always ended badly, because that type of magic wasn’t meant to be wielded by mortals - it was why the vessel broke down over time, why your soul became gnarled and corrupted, why the whispers told you to snuff out the light forever, so you could overcome the obstacles like humanity and have all that power.
The issue of where to put it was always one too, if they weren’t going to let someone take it all unto themselves. Maybe a Hellmaster’s Jar was as good of a place as any.
Or an accessory for the kitchen That’d be kind of funny - putting evil into a cookie jar. Neal had to snort a laugh at that.
“Pretty much anything runs the risk of breaking, that’s just how it goes...” He ran a hand over his face. “Regina might still have that urn Hans got from our world too, the one that can trap any magical entity - though I’m not sure if even that’s strong enough to hold the Dark One. I’ll have to ask her. But at least we’ve got options.”
Hey, options were good to have. In case something didn’t work, they had a semblance of a back up plan, right? Lina only wished she could do more than offer a magical item currently used for to hold sweets, but she’d be there. Either to supply enchanted bits and bobs or as emotional support.
Now, time for another bite of the meal - it was cooler now, not some steaming hot (she got a little excited earlier and may have burned her mouth, but she played it off). “And there isn’t a way to kill that thing? Dispel the curse, once and for all? Because it seems like no matter what it just keeps...coming back, over and over.” It was a permanent stain in Neal’s life, from his father to experiencing the whole thing himself, and it always kept wiggling back into his reality, threatening the people he cared about.
“Sealing’s always going to be a temporary solution, someone just needs to kill that thing so dead that it stays dead, and leaves you people the hell alone.”
For real. Neal wished he could obliterate that fucking curse - but he supposed that’s why it was a curse; the damn thing just kept coming. “On the Dark One’s vault,” he started, around a mouthful of pie, “...there are a bunch of symbols, right? It’s the place where each new Dark One arises from, is born from. Well, those symbols represent a lot of different things but they’re all inside of one - the Ouroboros. It means...something cyclical. Re-creation, and that’s what it does. The curse just recreates itself, always.”
It was passing from one host to the next, for whatever reason, never completely extinguishing. The one time it had? Neal had brought it back, all out of desperation and wanting to be reunited with his family - from then on, the Dark One’s Curse was a force to be reckoned with and now who could comprehend what it had been twisted into, if Emma had it in the dreamworld.
“So, I don’t know,” he was forced to admit. “There must be a way to end it entirely. Maybe summon all the forces of darkness, and wipe them out all at once - so everything tethered to that blade dies.” The problem was that everything would die - including the person whose soul was tied to the blade to begin with.
Right, right. The serpent eating its own tail. It was supposed to be connected to cycles, a never ending sort of thing, the eternal return. Which was a pretty damn good way to describe the Dark One’s curse. “Well, if Vakarian’s marriage proposals have taught us anything,” Lina smirked, stretching a hand across the console to pat Neal’s shoulder. “Third time’s a charm. Or it’s supposed to be, anyway. Something will give. There’s gotta be a breakthrough somewhere, but on the bright side, just...breathe for a bit, and know that whatever happens, the Dark One won’t be your very pregnant girlfriend.”
He needed some optimism, even for a little while, and she’d be that ball of fireballing sunshine for him. It didn’t erase the colossal shitstorm in the horizon, and magic of that calibre came with a steep price, but for the moment, they had meat pies and the view of the beach.
All they’d need to complete the picture was a nice, fat doobie.
For another time. Sigh.
Neal had to laugh at the mention of Garrus’ unfortunate wedding proposals. Well, unfortunate for him but hilarious to everyone else. Hell, maybe even the man himself could look back and laugh now that the ‘I do’ portion had been said, and it turned out beautifully in space.
“True, third time usually is,” he agreed. “I’m glad it’s not Emma though. Worried for anyone else, but just...so damn glad it’s not her. And by extension the baby, who we still don’t have a name for yet.” Lina was far ahead, her and Pete had picked a first and middle name. But for the Swan-Cassidy duo, nothing was really jumping out at them despite lots of brainstorming with books and online browsing. Henry’s suggestions were definitely not going to fly though, they could agree on that much.
The few times they’d talked about it, they’d bounced some back and forth - James, David after the Charming one, other ‘royal’ sounding names. “I think we’re going to work Nolan in there somehow. It’s the last name of Emma’s dream dad, but it’s kind of hipster in that it works for a middle name also, so he might have two.”
And a first name. That they didn’t know at the moment.
Middle name had even been decided before the first, too, but she was glad to have found something that went well with Romany. Plus, it was sort of a tribute to someone she cared a lot for in that medieval dreamscape - and missed, even if they’d never met here. The parents-to-be were pleased with their choice, and she’d already gotten used to calling the demon spawn fluttering in her stomach by the name. Amelia.
“Hardest thing besides birthing the brats are naming them,” Lina pointed out, and feeling the need to shift. Mostly because the aforementioned baking demon child was also moving around in there, almost a little uncomfortably, and instinct just told her to squirm a bit to accommodate. Gah. “I do like Nolan, though. Picking out the middle name actually sort of helped picking the first name - you start looking for things that go well with it. Just so happens I know an Amelia in another world. It clicked.”
Her own parents never went for middle names, but it was a matter of preference - and thank fuck for that. Her birth name was long enough as it was.
“I can’t take on the birthing part besides being there and letting her squeeze my fingers or throw things at me, but the name? Yeah, I definitely want to help with that,” Neal said, reaching over to gently place a hand on where tiny Amelia was fluttering about, in her waterbed - he wasn’t some random stranger and spent enough time talking to and listening to Emma’s own baby bump; there was experience with that, at least.
And it was still so weird to feel from the outside - must be extra weird carrying that, feeling a life form kicking at you internally.
He drummed his fingers to a rhythm, something classic rock for Amelia to enjoy. Zeppelin, definitely. Maybe she’d settle a little. “We could start with the middle name, then. Work outward, or something - Henry suggested Thor, but that’s probably not going to happen.” Actually, one hundred percent certain it wouldn’t happen.
Neal could touch the belly! Strangers couldn’t. Strangers were forbidden from the belly - and the ladies in line at the grocery store were the worst. Lina didn’t know why the hell people thought she’d be okay with them groping her stomach, but it’s cool, she made sure to offend them. Verbally. With a swift bitchslap to their grubby hands too. Unless Pete was there, he usually handled that sort of thing in his attractively angry and British way.
Chowing down was put to a halt for the moment, though. Tiny karate chops were being performed in her womb - she’d let that tantrum pass first, but hopefully Uncle Neal could soothe the little shit sooner. “Of course he’d suggest Thor,” she snickered. “But in this place? Nah, don’t name your kid after a superhero. Steve Rogers was at my baby shower, remember?” Go Peggy! Get that patriotic booty. For America. “I think we thought so hard about it that, hell, it came to us when we weren’t thinking about it. It’ll hit you guys one day. Whether it’s because you read it from a phonebook or you got the inspiration from someone you know.”
Steve Rogers at the baby shower. They were lucky Henry hadn’t gone, because he would have stared until his eyes fell out of his head. Or he’d have just been consumed by a tornado of fanboy joy. “Right, because if it were up to Henry he’d want to name the kid Steve Tony Thor Hawkeye Cassidy or something - even when he’s long past the comic book stage,” If he ever got past that stage, it didn’t seem likely because even some adults didn’t, “He’ll wonder why we didn’t name his brother after the Earth’s mightiest heroes.”
But Lina was probably right. It’d come to him and Emma, one of these days - they still had some time also, before they had to figure out the important name aspect.
Lina had to snort a laugh there - yeah, no, that was a mouthful, please spare the second Cassidy-Swan a name like that. “He might wonder, sure, but your second born munchkin will actually thank you for the rest of his life.” Ah, Henry. That kid had a special place in her angry little heart. And that penguin tattoo still had a place on her desk, too, next to all the little photographic mementos she gathered for the past two years of insanity here.
But finally, the excitement in her stomach eventually eased. Amelia probably tired herself out or something. Must be a hard-knock life all cozied up in a warm waterbed. Now she could comfortably consume the face-stuffing, because goddamnit, there’d be no leftovers of this mouthful of edible orgasm, thank you. “Just try to decide something before Emma goes to labor and you guys are arguing about a name while she’s pushing him out, will you?”
If it did happened that way, at least record it. For nostalgia purposes in the future.
Fuck a duck, Neal didn’t even think of it playing out that way - sounded like the stuff sitcoms were made of. “Who knows what kind of name we’d come up with during the heat of the moment?” he laughed, ceasing with the Zeppelin on Lina’s belly. Amelia had been dancing up a storm, now she needed a nap. It was tough work indeed, snoozing in that waterbed.
“I’ll let you know what we decide and you can give me your honest opinion,” he added. Now, back to the goodness of pie. There was still a lot to consume, there was root beer to drink, and the view was picturesque - it was enough to want to get him to slow down and enjoy, to not worry about anything, because they’d be crossing some pretty big damn hurdles soon enough.
Together, at least. He had confidence in that much.