Who: The Firestarter Faaaam, officially (Lina & Pete with demon baby Amelia!) What: Lina's water breaks at the cursed store known as Best Buy When: Today Where: Best Buy, then the hospital Rating/Warnings: Um, natural childbirth so there's that, and some language, but tons of cuteness in the end Status: Complete!
Nope, being stationary wasn’t going to happen. What was the point anyway, when she couldn’t find a position that made her comfortable? Aches and soreness, the blatant discomfort and the random jabs into random nerves - it didn’t stop Lina from wanting to move. Roam around, do something distracting, find adventure. Even if the adventure was limited to things like, oh, the gaming section of Best Buy. The point was that she was out and about and she could fit into her shoes, so?
Alright, look. This sorceress would take all the victories she could get, even the small ones. Don’t rain on her parade.
Not to mention the day was actually pretty. No rain, a dry warmth with a cool breeze - it was a crime to stay indoors, and she’d been begging for some leisure time outside of the house. Nothing crazy. Lunch, some light shopping (which was what they were currently doing), and maybe a stroll by the beach. Something just them, considering family get-togethers were plentiful with his estranged dad in the area, and she and Pete could probably benefit from some mindless time away from the potential crazy.
“Ohhhh, you think Henry might dig this? The beardy fella in front looks like your boyfriend a little,” she cheekily grinned, holding up a copy of some used PS3 game. Dragon Age something. Lately her wardrobe had been dresses, the long and comfortable type - this one was gray and strapless, and her accessories were of the turquoise variety. Earrings, necklace, bracelet; it was reminiscent to the nursery colors. “Maybe we should get a gaming console for ourselves.”
A lovely afternoon out was good. They hadn’t had a lot of time to themselves lately, so the fire-flinging mutant would indulge his ladylove with feet itchy for travel, even the slightest bit. There was no work to be done, no furniture to put together, no making nice with his father right now (that’d come later, perhaps they’d have dinner together). “I’m surprised we haven’t got one already, just for the sake of friends,” Pete snorted, though he wasn’t really into video games and Lina wasn’t either. But some of the individuals they knew and loved? Different story. There was also the aforementioned boy, Henry, who was extended family anyway so Wisdom wouldn’t mind having something fun at the house for a teenaged kid to do. Because there really wasn’t much otherwise, besides the abundance of crystals and witchy brew - magical artifacts, odds and ends, which made sense given who lived there. “He really does look like Hawke, doesn’t he...”
Pete took the game and flipped it over to read the back - he’d never heard of Dragon Age before, but there was that thing which emerged from the crater in the park, sort of? How bloody bizarre.
Alright, decision made. “We can get one if you want,” he shrugged. “May as well make full use of the flatscreen since we haven’t broken it yet.” Praise the OC gods and every other deity which looked upon this metaphysical vat of quicksand - it sucked you in, there was no getting out.
Knock on wood, Petey-bird. Hopefully their current television would last awhile. It’d been a minute since that unlucky streak of destruction reared its head around, so, that was a good sign - right? That’s what Lina thought, anyway.
“You gotta promise to play a video game with me though,” she urged, and plucked another game from the shelf. Used, but for a different console. It was one of the newer versions of Mario Kart, a competitive racing game that could end even the strongest of relationships. Watching Pete play this thing? Oh, it’d be hilarious. His face would get all Grumpy Cat if he lost, probably, and she held it up to him. “Dibs on the green dino--ow--saur.”
No, seriously. Ow. A cramp nailed her in the abdomen, something sharp, like a stab - which weren’t completely uncommon, and she’d had a taste of those ‘troll contractions’ once or twice before. An arm curled underneath her stomach, and her face scrunched grumpily. “I think I need to fart or something.”
If you couldn’t discuss these things with the man you were having a baby with, what the hell was the point? He did this to her! Exhibit A: Belly. Exhibit B: Pete Wisdom. Exhibit C: His fault.
Well, to be fair, Lina tended to discuss her flatulence with him even before he knocked her up. This wasn’t anything new for Wisdom, so he didn’t think much of it - though of course seeing that look on her face was cause for concern; gas didn’t usually cause that, did it? Or the troll contractions which, the first time they happened, sent him into a panic because what the fuck was going on. Preparing the body for childbirth was such an odd phenomenon.
“The toilet’s around the corner,” he pointed out, relieving her hands of things to carry - and he’d just stack the games they wanted (oh, and Pete really would turn into British Grumpy cat at losing Mario Kart, how unfair was it that Lina claimed the dinosaur, the dinosaur was the fastest). “Or I can block the aisle and you just...let it rip?”
These were the kinds of things you did for the person you loved. Especially when they were heavily pregnant with your child.
Let it rip. How sweet of him. Really, she'd appreciate it more if she didn't feel so goddamn crampy, like she was trapped in a vicegrip that slowly tightened around those narrow pelvic bones. Jokes and hardy-harhars about farts between them, for once, didn't make Lina look amused.
A whoosh of air was breathed out, and the sorceress winced. "It's fine, it's going away," she told him. A little unconvincingly due to the strained voice, but whatever was happening was lightening up - little by little. Troll contractions, maybe? Hell if she knew. They felt…different, with an uncomfortable amount of centralized pressure. Another breath taken, and the sorceress began to visibly relax. "Yeah, it's cool. Anyway, we should really get the Wi--"
Then there was a gush. Like someone took a glass of water and then dumped it riiiiiiiight between her legs. Lina sort of...did an awkward waddling dance in this newfound puddle because what the fuck just happened.
A customer representative peeked over, and then spoke into his radio. "Woman in Video Games peed herself. Clean up requested."
Oh, bloody hell. Did that just really happen? Because it felt like this wasn’t even his life. It felt like the universe never wanted them to step foot into a Best Buy ever again, and wasn’t this one recently refurbished after a spider attack too?
“Fuck you,” Wisdom hissed at the twat with the radio, an instinctive reaction to lash out (at least he didn’t lash out by throwing scorching hot knife blades toward squishy flesh?) at someone who said or did something stupid around his fiancee. “She didn’t fucking piss herself, she’s...a baby, she’s having a baby, right now!”
He recognised it for what it was, Lina’s water breaking. Amelia had apparently decided that she wanted in on the video game conversation too and, merchandise tossed into the air like confetti, they now had a new goal to get to the hospital faster than the speed of sound. “Love, we’ve got to go - let’s go.” Why wasn’t his mutation teleportation?? Goddamnit, x-gene, what the shit were you even good for if not that?
“Wha—who the hell hired you?” Lina scowled, because, yes – the employee was an idiot and couldn’t tell the difference between ‘actually pregnant’ and ‘food baby pregnant.’ Hence the middle finger sent in his general direction while his vocals yielded a shrill shriek (something like IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THIS STORE) at the realization someone actually going into labor at a goddamn Best Buy.
Uncomfortable moving aside – good god, why the fuck was that pressure moving to her legs? – they eagerly made it out of the store (no electronic goods, but they got a lot of confused stares instead) and into Pete’s sleek BMW. There was an emergency hospital bag in the trunk for exactly this sort of scenario, thank the devil the two of them were anal retentive about being as prepared as they could possibly be. At least in regards to stuff.
As for this very day, well…
Seatbelt buckled, the redhead stifly shifted. “We got time, you know, don’t drive like a mani--motherfucker!” That was an ‘ow.’ That was a very big ‘ow.’ Lina’s pain tolerance had always been high, but this - the preparation for actual childbirth - was proving to be worse than, say, almost having broken arms and then being slammed into a rock wall by a demonlord in a tacky orange coat, followed by a waterfall of blood vomit? And to think it was only the beginning. “Okay, uh, maybe less time, I’m not sure.”
Like fuck Wisdom wasn’t going to drive like a maniac. He was about to take a lesson from the Isabela School of Driving and mow down anything or any old lady in his path, thus winning the Grand Theft Auto championship - and speaking of that rascally pirate, he wasn’t sure if she and Hawke were back from Vegas or not but he planned to call and leave a very frantic message. First, driving while the mobile was on speakerphone (don’t try this at home, kids), he phoned Lina’s parents and then Romany - who was a bit frazzled, screaming things at him like, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHE’S HAVING THE BABY NOW and a complete contrast from the ‘soothing crystals’ vibe she’d helped set up in the nursery, with the use of her gift.
The whole point was that his sister could tell Harold, and then hopefully meet them at the hospital, because his father specifically crossed an ocean to be here for the birth of the first grandchild. He’d be mighty upset if he missed it.
Lastly to Hawke, the voicemail sounding something like, you manky git, stuff your dick back into your trousers for a second - charming, as usual. The panicked Wisdom glanced at Lina, then back toward the red light he just ran through. “We’re almost there, how...you’re alright?”
Besides the fact that there were going on in her nether regions, that he could not even fathom.
Oh, christ. Let it be known she was much calmer than the ones on the receiving end of those calls and calmer than the frantic fiancé responsible for said calls - probably because she was trying to focus on dealing with the onslaught of pain that was gradually increasing around her midsection. A bit in her legs, and her back was beginning to feel ache too.
“Dreading the next couple hours,” Lina answered truthfully, and swallowed down the little bit of nervousness because once those couple hours of utter physical horror were over, they’d be parents. Officially. With a bundle of something loud in their arms. This was it. Her cheeks were flushed, and now that his hand was free of that stupid phone she’d grab onto it and hold tight. “I got it, as long as you’re there. Sorry about leaking all over your car and sorry about potentially breaking your hand, so don’t forget I love you?”
Hell, she was going to do her damn best to tank through this, but, uh. This wasn’t some kind of major ouch brought on from fighting a Big Bad - though when you had a little person to call your own, it didn’t matter how much it hurt as long as they were out and safe.
Leaking over his...? Right, that was a thing too, wasn’t it? Wisdom hadn’t even realised. But not like he cared, or would stop the car and demand Lina put a towel down - no, he was all for getting them to the hospital in a timely manner. “I love you too,” he chuckled a little, and it was a nervous sound because, certainly, they’d been preparing for Amelia’s birth over the past eight or so months but now it was happening and he would get to meet her very soon. That instilled all sorts of new father jitters which felt like albatross wings beating against the inside of his stomach. “No need to apologise for anything, my hand will be - “
Er, well, anyway. It would be fine. He’d have Zatanna heal anything later, when the proud godmum came by to see the new, shriveled, pink life that had been pushed out into this shithole world.
“Here we are!” Pete cut himself off, after stomping on the brakes in a parking space in the hospital’s lot. “I’ll get your things, Red, and we’ve already arranged for a room with a view, I think?” At this particular hospital - let’s just say if they didn’t get Lina in there in .5 seconds, he’d set fire to something critical.
Maybe the hospital staff hadn’t the slightest clue on Wisdom’s ability to, literally, set anything on fire but the Brit’s stern sense of urgency and general presence was terrifying on its own – so, yes, by the grace of his glare they did get squared away to the room (with the view) quickly. Changed, in bed, poked and prodded, all that uncomfortable nonsense to gauge just at what point of the process they were currently at and to wait for the, uh, doctor to take a good look between her legs (couldn’t they buy her dinner first?).
And the nurses were nice, they really were, and were doing their best to be soothing to the mother on the verge of popping, but…
“Get the hell out of my face,” Lina snarled to one in particular who wouldn’t shut up about ‘breathing properly.’ Like hell was she going to be polite when she felt like her bones were being ripped apart little by little to accommodate the little chimichanga about to make her grand debut into the world. One fireballing hand was held up, menacingly. “I will bitchslap you out of this window, lady, if you say one more thing to me.”
Oooookay then. That nurse got the message and backed up, hands up in surrender. “You don’t want to be crowded, do you?”
Another contraction hit, hard, and it yielded a less than quiet sound of discomfort. “What the hell did I just say to you?! Why are you still talking to me?!”
Getting Lina situated had been top priority - and catering to her whims, of course, because not like offering the men a drink and a cigar was the standard procedure. For Wisdom, anxious father-to-be, he hadn’t even been allowed in until he caught the tail end of his fiery fiancee yelling at the poor nurse. But he’d used that time to meet up with family in the waiting room, and pace a few holes in the floor - he wasn’t sure how long this would take, but he’d provide updates. Mostly he just wanted to be with Lina, for everything.
No need to swap out the Armani clothes for scrubs either - not yet, not unless a c-section and all the sterility that accompanied that became necessary, but he hoped not. He just rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to the elbows and prepared to have his bones crushed. “Alright, Florence Nightingale, that’s probably enough for now,” he narrowed his eyes in the nurse’s general direction. Honestly.
Then he offered a hand for Lina to clasp onto, while she screamed some more. More screaming would probably happen. “Everyone’s in the waiting room,” Pete informed her. “I think your father brought a thermos full of vodka.”
Some women in labor might get a little extra murderous at the sight of the person responsible for putting a baby in them but, nope, not this one. Lina looked relieved to see Pete, and his presence actually helped quell the urge to blast that pesky nurse through the goddamn window (at this rate a bitchslap was generous). “I could reaaaaaaally use some,” she laughed – though only a little, because it was cut short by a lively groan and an elongated oooooooooow. That’s when her dainty hand clamped over his and tightened.
At least the coaching nurse that vacated the room got one thing right – Lina didn’t want to be crowded, didn’t want anyone else saying some weird bullshit in her ear, and really, the less people that saw this the less bouts of attempted violence would ensue.
After what felt for-fucking-ever (with lots of uncomfortable writhing and crankiness), in came the doctor. Latex gloves, dressed in that sky blue uniform meant for the bloody mess of delivering life, and propped himself onto the stool conveniently located in front of the spread-eagled sorceress (again, where the fuck was that dinner, doc?). “Well…” Was it ever a good sign when someone raised a brow at your nether-regions? Or smile. Stop smiling at it. Just…stop. “You’re ready to go.” The less-than-invasive nurses were, of course, on standby - almost like they were ready to catch the baby if she shot out like a football or something.
Uhhh… Lina gulped. “Wait, you’re serious? Now?”
“Yeeeee-up,” he said, very nonchalantly. Really, it was his third delivery today, and he was a total pro and would probably even make it home for dinner on time. It was a good day. “Start pushing.”
Wisdom didn’t think he’d ever smiled at the glory of his beloved’s twat before, but alright, doctor. Whatever got the job done - this was an actual medical professional here, and they were in a hospital with actual birthing equipment. Those were all positive things. Squatting in a bathtub was a situation he’d wanted to avoid. “What? Start pushing?” he repeated - he’d been paying attention, certainly, but it took a moment to actually register.
This was going to hurt, wasn’t it? For the both of them, but probably for Lina more? About one-thousand times more - not that he enjoyed seeing her in pain. Perhaps a little bit useless in that regard, he’d still do what he could - and wouldn’t even whisper ‘encouraging’ things in her ear, because that would be annoying. Instead, he’d simply let her scream and yell and curse at him, snap his fingers, and if she wanted him to leave at any point he’d do that too (and somehow face the gathered two families in the waiting room).
“Aren’t you supposed to give her drugs or something?” he asked in bewilderment, yes, what about those? Were there drugs? “How does this even work?” A dumb question, perhaps, sue him. He’d never done this before.
Well, here goes nothing. Pete gave the brave sorceress’s hand a squeeze. “You can do it, love. I’m right here.”
"I'm good, don't need it," Lina insisted with a high-pitched, strained grunt - the aches and pains were pretty, uh, bad but since this was her first rodeo poppin' out a kid, well. Going the the drugless route was a decision she made, and she wanted to stick with it. Women did it all the time, so, you know the saying: challenge accepted.
Plus, Pete's hand. It was good enough.
Don't worry, though - the doctor had heard worse questions, and it was normal for first-time parents to be nervous. So he was informative while readying his hands underneath the hospital gown (thank fuck they couldn't see the real disaster happening down there), like riveting talks about cutting the placenta. Didn't that sound fun? "Might benefit you to practice the breathing exercises too," finished the doc. To the father-to-be, actually. "So you don't faint. Now, first push. Make it good."
"Gladly," she growled, and scrunched her face in the utmost hilarious facial display of determination before she gave it a go and guuuuuuuuh. There it went, and there'd probably be a lot more where that came from - with a liiiittle screaming, a little bit (where was Neal with his megaphone?!). It made the force behind the squeezes around Pete's hand impressive.
But probably a little uncomfortable for him.
It felt like Lina cracked walnuts for a living, like she considered it an Olympic sport in which she’d earned the gold medal - because fuck, his hand. Pete couldn’t even be surprised by the display of Herculean squeezing, however. In this situation, it likely paved the way for bouts of strength that both shocked and awed.
“Breathing, I’m breathing - breathing with you, Red,” he promised, though it was more like he was gasping in a fish-out-of-water way. Wisdom would not faint though, he would not. And he didn’t know how far along the baby was, in terms of being pushed out (because...looking was also not an option, god no), so he wouldn’t tell her that she was ‘almost there’ or whatever - the doctor could do that instead. “I’m sorry I did this to you - “ May as well apologise for that zealous ‘you’re aliiiive’ fucking that meant no protection at all was used, “...but I’m so very proud of you, alright? More than you know.” And he loved her more than she knew, loved their daughter just the same, because he never thought he’d get to have this ever.
Somehow, between the agonizing sequences of pushing, Lina caught a breath to laugh. “Your timing for cute romantic talk while I’m a sweaty hot mess and you’re dressed for the Armani runway is total shit,” she hoarsely choked, but nevertheless she appreciated the touching pep talk from Mr. Hot Stuff. Not that he had anything to apologize for – they’d wanted this, didn’t they? All that hopeful talk of the future they almost didn’t have because of chaos vacuuming her into itself was officially a reality. And while reality at the moment hurt like a total fucking bitch getting run over, stabbed, and pummeled right in the twat, it was worth it.
But, lordy, the process felt long due to the anticipation; plus the pain, and the general shouts of physical discomfort, Wisdom’s knuckles getting a sharp set of the redhead’s nails digging into them. Most of the encouragement came from the good ol’ doctor comfortably (motherfucker, she wanted a steak dinner with a side of another steak and a giant cake for dessert with steak on top) positioned between her knees, letting them know then the blob of life was coming into view – and she was! Motivation for the last stretch, definitely, until the, uh, ‘grand finale.’
Which began with the an impressive wailing from tiny lungs, from an equally tiny creation of wrinkly human covered in goop and blood and all that gruesome stuff much thanks to the insides of her also tiny motherly oven.
Lina let out what sounded like...a happy sort of tired whimper, bright hair sticking to her neck, and her eyes blinked wide. “Wow, she’s - she’s pretty loud.” Little, and loud, and theirs.
Blood, there was so much blood. It was also amazing how a baby’s head could be misshapen, like something from the era of cubism in art, to fit through an awkward space as it passed through. Wisdom wasn’t sure what to be more in awe at, so he sort of was in one-thousand different places at once when the doctor asked if he wanted to cut the cord. Should he trust his shaky hands with something sharp, was the question?
But he steeled himself and managed, letting out a quavery breath of his own as their goop-covered creation was taken to be cleaned up, weighed, assessed, and swaddled in something cute. To the nursery she would go, for a bit, because wee Amelia was a little early in terms of delivery so they probably needed to do extra poke-poke assessments or what have you.
It’d give Lina a chance to be tended to also, sweaty and ripped open (fuck) as she was. Pete was over the moon regardless; he brushed a hand over her neck to push back the sweaty strands of red hair and kiss her forehead. “Doesn’t look like she’s going to be a ginger but who knows,” he grinned. “I’ll go tell the rest of the family, they’ll probably want to come back as soon as you’re ready for a few visitors.”
There was some grouchy protest when they carried her baby away. After eight months of lugging her around, and those hours of constant bone-stretching pain followed by a wrecked body and blood, Lina wanted to hold the newborn. “I saw a mess of dark hair, actually,” she giggled, thoroughly exhausted, but with a newfound sense of separation anxiety. “I need drugs, and a shower, but –”
Ow. There was a slow shift of herself she did in bed, carefully – she could still feel everything, and it wasn’t pleasant – before her sore fingers (from all that squeezing) took Pete’s wrist. “Go check on her? Please? Stalk them until they bring her in if you have to. I just…want to spend some time with just us before the crowd comes in.”
Then it’d be an all-out family fued on who got to hold the baby and so forth, between Luna and Romany, and her parents, and his father. Russians were loud but so were the Brits. Those biological aunts might get into a catfight, who knew.
“Of course.” Pete kissed the corner of her mouth this time, then went to go see what was what - he was all for a brief little bit of quiet time before the stampede arrived, and he knew he’d end up with a headache from all the loudness (but they were all so lovingly boisterous, he would be hard-pressed to admit that he actually couldn’t picture a familial unit for himself any other way).
It took some time but when he returned to Lina’s room, he was carrying the little bundle wrapped in that iconic striped blanket that most hospitals used. “I hope they gave you a dose of those drugs, Red,” he said, stepping closer to place Amelia in her mummy’s arms. He also hoped Lina wasn’t in too much pain. “Here she is though, isn’t she lovely? Definitely has got the English nose too, I think.”
He could not be more proud, and happy, even if he tried.
His absence was the prime opportunity to get the mess that was the sorceress cleaned up, and the room too - fresh linens, sterilized, and even if she did not want the assistance of nurses helping her shower, it was a sad necessity. Lina felt better refreshed, a little more human, and the meds they had hooked to her veins weren’t too shabby either. Enough to numb things but not too much that she’d be a doped up pile of delirious goop.
Sleep tried to draw her eyes shut but stubbornly, she fought against it. There was still the matter of Amelia. No way was she dozing off without holding her damn baby for the first time, but the sight of Wisdom entering with swaddled bitty person in his arms caused her to perk up instantly. And smirk, because Pete holding his little girl (officially, for the first time) had to be the cutest sight to behold.
“Don’t doom her just yet,” she snickered, and soon her arms were occupied and Lina was just smitten. Pink and wrinkly like they’d expected, and so incredibly small - that nose, the little fingernails, that smell. Nothing poopy yet, but people said newborns had this scent and they really did. Amelia smelled better than cake. “How is someone so cute and so little responsible for my beaten bladder and bruised ribs, hm?”
“Must mean she’s got some fire in her. But she’s ours, of course she does,” Wisdom smirked, hand gently stroking over Amelia’s soft peach-like noggin’. She had on a tiny beanie to keep her head warm, downy black fuzz covered, but her little face was just too bloody adorable - Pete was equally smitten with his daughter, all the nerves over meeting and her and potentially being an awful father evaporated completely - replaced by all this love he never thought he was capable of experiencing.
He kissed the top of Lina’s head, then the top of the baby’s, the wee sprog making those cooing noises, and she yawned. Maybe she was sleepy, even though all newborns did was sleep - or shit, or cry, either of the above. Soon she would be doted on by the whole family, godparents included, and Pete was excited to have everyone else meet Amelia too.
Such a squished bitty face, and could those quiet sounds get any fucking cuter? Maybe it was the drugs talking, or that fuzzy euphoria of sappy happiness that had taken over, but all Lina wanted to do now was drown in a goddamn cuddle-puddle with the sleepy infant (man, being born must be such a tiring job) and Pete. There was some room on the bed, and she patted a spot next to her so he could sit. Just watch the tubes with the liquid painkillers.
“This time next year she’s gonna face-planting into her first cake,” Lina rubbed her nose against her baby’s cheek, because that scent. And for some reason she couldn’t get the idea of cake out of her mind, was that weird? “Five more minutes with just us, okay? Then people can come over and hog our demon.”
Sigh, she guessed everyone could hold her too for awhile - but she almost didn’t want to hand her to anyone else because drugged snuggles were the best, and the new mommy was comfortable. Though to be honest, it wouldn’t be long until she just dozed off despite the circus noise. The sorceress was pooped.
Carefully, Pete settled on the hospital bed with Lina cradling the baby. He wouldn’t blame her for taking a page out of Amelia’s book and sleeping - it had been a long day, a lot happened, and the new mum had been ripped open. She’d pushed out a Yank-football without the assistance of drugs - now that was some impressive stuff. Would forever make Wisdom feel guilty about complaining of gunshot wounds - those probably hurt less than childbirth.
“Five more minutes,” he agreed, snickering quietly. He was watching Amelia too, just kind of wondering about her - what colour her eyes would be (all newborns had blue eyes, but would they stay that way?) and what her favourite things would be and what she would be passionate about. Luckily he had a lifetime (well, hopefully - knock on wood, OC) to figure all of that out and watch her grow. “And I promise to bring you some cake as soon as I can, Red. I recognised that as a hint.”
Hey, the first quiet minutes between the three of them was important stuff! Lina wanted to enjoy it, even though they’d get moments like this whenever the two of them were released from the hospital - and she was sure hours could be spent staring at the little marvel in her arms, because they made her. From dirty humping, sure, but still.
“You’re my favorite,” she grinned, getting comfortable against the fiance. Snuggles for the three of them, and she kissed his shoulder while fluttering those doe-eyed lashes at him. “More than you know, Petey-bird.”
She and her firestarting partner in life and everything else - they had this in the bag. Lina wouldn’t have it any other way.