Conner (gothefuk2sleep) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2012-02-15 20:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | conner ainsley, darcy ainsley |
Who: Darcy and Conner (her son)
What: Conner popping in from the future...during showertiems.
When: Beginning of Future!Plot
Where: Darcy’s apartment.
Warning: Nudity. And possible swearing from a terrified Darcy?
“I’m too sexy for my shirt! Too sex-ay for my shirt....sooooo sexy it huuuurts!” Conner sang as he pulled off the offending shirt. He was half dancing and half walking to the bathroom. He didn’t really pay much attention at all to where the shirt landed on the floor, but it certainly wasn’t in the bathroom. He was sure that his mom would kill him for that later, but right now it didn’t particularly matter, actually! He wanted to go ahead and get his shower before his brother could beat him! It was kind of a pain sharing with a mother and a brother. Mostly mom, Clark would just get in the bathroom to be an ass. Or maybe that was just Conner complaining? Either way!
Conner shook his ass as he stepped into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He was even bouncing slightly as he turned the water to the temperature that he wanted for his shower. Once it was the perfect temp Conner backed away, doing some rather impressive hip thrust dance moves. “I’m too sexy for my pants, too sexy for my pants!” And off the next offending item went until Conner was ready to step into the shower. The water felt super nice, actually. Conner shut his eyes as he continued to shake his ass. This was probably a sight that a number of girls wouldn’t mind seeing, actually? Conner knew that he was hot! There was no sense in pretending to be super modest. He liked himself! He’d had enough girls chase him in the past to be okay with saying that. He took pride in his appearance. He wasn’t y’know totally shallow! That was just something that he was proud of and thought about himself! He had to have something ‘cause he wasn’t exactly the brightest bulb in the box.
Conner didn’t really think much as he washed his hair, rinsing it quickly and then moved on to soap! As he lathered the soap on his chest he found himself singing again, half snickering. “I’m too sexy for my soap, too sexy for my soap!” He felt the water run down his body as he rinsed himself off, inhaling the awesome soap that he used. Once he had gotten rid of all of the soap on his body he turned around, dancing. Okay, maybe it was bad that he was trying to use more of the hot water, but....it’d be funny.
“I’m too sex-aaaay for this shoooower! Too sex-aaay for this shooooower! Bam!” Conner spun around, carefully so as not to fall, and turned the shower off, reaching for a towel without opening the curtain. This was all business as per usual!
Darcy was awakened by the shrieking of a frantic toddler. “Maaaaaaaamaaaa! Somebody’s in the bathroom!” It took a few minutes for her to identify the voice as Clark’s, immediately followed up by, “hey mama, how come one of Daddy’s shirts is here?” from Conner as he entered the room, holding up a discarded men’s shirt. Still half-asleep, Darcy groaned and closed her eyes. “Boone, can you make them breakfast or something?” she called out after looking at the clock and noticing it was almost ten in the morning. Boone would’ve been there for an hour. “Please? Fifteen more minutes; I couldn’t sleep last night. You’re a life saver,” she added.
Conner’s tiny face scrunched and he thrust his arm forward, fist curled around the shirt, emphasizing the importance of his presence to his mother as she pulled a pillow out from under her head and hid under it.
That was when Clark burst into the room. “Mama,” he breathed, “somebody’s here. But not Boone, he didn’t come,” he replied in a hush. “Mama!”
That was when the sound of singing caught Darcy’s ear, loud and echoing against the walls of the bathroom adjacent to her room and Darcy sat up, eyes wide. Conner placed the discarded shirt down on his mother’s bed and looked innocently back at her. Clark’s attention was drawn toward the door. He, too, could tell something wasn’t right.
“Stay here,” Darcy said quietly to the twins, nodding for Clark to guide his brother back behind her bed. When they’d started over that way, Darcy climbed out of bed and pulled an aluminum baseball bat out from under the bed, letting it hang loosely in her grip at her side until she’d gotten to the hallway. “Be quiet,” she hissed at the twins and, when Clark’s head inevitably popped up to peek over the edge of the bed, she locked eyes with him thinking to herself that he was really to old for his age sometimes. “Don’t come out. Don’t make a sound. If you get scared, call Dean; Mama’s phone is on the nightstand, just press the four button and send,” she whispered hastily. Clark nodded and his tiny hand snatched the phone off the stand before disappearing back behind the bed.
Closing the bedroom door quietly behind herself, Darcy finally raised the baseball bat, approaching the bathroom slowly. She froze, eyes wide, when the shower turned off and the singing stopped. Her heart raced. Should she take advantage of her window of opportunity for the element of surprise and try to kick the door open? No, she’d never get it on the first try. She just waited, pressing herself up against the wall behind where the bathroom door would open outwardly and gripped the baseball bat tightly with white knuckles and sweating palms. She tried to remember the things she’d tried to absorb in camp over the summer, the things she’d picked up in self-defense class back home, and hoped the bat would be enough of a deterrant that she wouldn’t have to use them.
Then the door started to open and it was go time.
Conner grabbed the towel and automatically tried his hair before running it over the rest of his body (he had learned his lesson--getting out of the shower dripping wet pissed your mother off). Only once he was no longer dripping water everywhere did Conner wrap the towel around his waist and then move to get out of the tub. He felt all sorts of squeaky clean and awesome now. The teenage boy ignored the pants that he had dropped to the floor in favor of moving to wipe the mirror off and check himself out. He looked fine! He was pretty much good to go! After running his hand through his hair rather quickly the teen turned toward the door. Nope, he had absolutely positively no plan of grabbing the pants at all. He was sure that his mom would scream at him for it later, but he’d wait until that actually happened to pick them up. The same would probably be for his shirt, wherever he had thrown it...
Conner didn’t even think as he turned the knob to the bathroom door and stepped out. He hadn’t really been thinking about anything, really. He was going to go get dressed, but maybe he’d stop by the kitchen first....that thought process was derailed as he saw....someone waiting by the bathroom door with a baseball bat. “What the hell?!?!” He practically squealed, though he never would have admitted to it. His voice probably wasn’t supposed to be able to go that high.... and he’d never ever say that it had done that to anyone. Conner automatically moved, putting distance between the woman and himself, going wide eyed as he reached a realization after a few moments of staring.
“Mom? Why do you look so....young? And why do you have a bat? Were you gonna beat me for throwing my shirt on the floor ‘cause you know that’s really not fair! It’s just a shirt and it’s not even a smelly one!” Conner rambled, staring at his mom, holding his towel, to be sure it stayed in place, with one hand and the other held up between them as if it were making her stop.
Really, though. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. This was weird.
The man — no, teenager, which was somehow even weirder — yelped back at her once he’d noticed her and she raised it higher opening her mouth to tell him to back the fuck up when he addressed her and her jaw snapped shut, her eyes wide. That was when it hit her as she looked back at him. She felt like she was staring at a younger version of Marcus and she all but dropped the bat, arms back down at her sides as she stared at him. She didn’t speak right away, eyes moving over his body until they met with the tiny birthmark on his left side. Conner. Holy shit, was this a joke? “Conner…?” she breathed, looking as though she’d been slapped.
Finally, Darcy put the bat down. “No…oh, no, no, no, this can not be happening right now…” she whispered, raising a hand to her forehead and sliding it down to pinch the bridge of her nose briefly before it finally rested over her mouth as she stared back at him. She couldn’t make herself think it — her son. “But you’re…” she paused, looking back over her shoulder at her own bedroom door where the ‘right’ version of Conner was hiding with his older twin. Darcy’s eyes moved back to the other version. He looked too much like Marcus not to be her son. The eyes, the jaw…Jesus, if this was what her babies were going to grow up to look like, she sure as hell hoped it took a while for them to get there, because looking at him suddenly aged to look like his illegitimate father right there and then put Darcy into a sort of shell shock.
“What are you doing here…? How…? I…” Darcy trailed off, at a complete and total loss for words.
Conner had done some stupid things in his lifetime, but he had never done anything that would make his mom beat him with a baseball bat. Of that much he was pretty positive. The teenage boy honestly had no idea why she was doing this now. She looked so scared, he couldn’t help but feel a little weirded out by it. What did she have to be scared of right now? Was there something that had gone over his head again? Something that he had missed? He sure as hell hoped not! The way she was looking at him it was like she’d never seen him before in her life. He really didn’t get why. The second his name came out of her mouth, the kid nodded. “Yeah.....so can we put the bat away?”
As the bat went down the boy relaxed, probably too much too soon, ‘cause his mom’s next words really caught him off guard. No? What was happening? Conner looked around, maybe he was trying to figure out what was going on that she was so upset about...or maybe he was just trying to figure out who she was talking to ‘cause it didn’t seem to be him, actually. “What’s happening, exactly?” Conner asked, tilting his head and fixing his, younger than she was supposed to be, mother with a puppy dog look of confusion. He watched his mother do what he had seen her do a thousand times. Sometimes she did that little fingers and nose thing when she got his grades....y’know from time to time they weren’t up to par.
Conner blinked at her started sentence. He didn’t really know what to say, this was pretty weird for him and he didn’t really know what to say.
So, he held onto his towel and spaced a little bit until his mother spoke again. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to answer those questions, so he did so honestly. “Taking a shower?” He offered sheepishly. “Why do you look so young? And what’s with the bat?” Nope, he didn’t get it at all.
“Sorry,” Darcy breathed. “I’m sorry, baby, I…just…” She paused then and actually let the bat go, bending just slightly to put it down on the floor as she stared back at her much older son. “Look at you…” she whispered, a weak but fond smile sliding over her lips. “You look just like your father, now…” She nearly took that back and clarified, because she was pretty sure that Conner would think that she was talking about Ethan, whom he looked nothing like. Then again, maybe Conner wouldn’t even remember what Ethan looked like, by the time he was what…sixteen? Seventeen years old by the time he was standing in front of her?
Conner finally spoke again and Darcy shook her head as if forcing herself to focus and shaking away the slightly disconnected trains of thought. “Conner…it’s 2012. You’re only supposed to be three years old right now…” she said. Knitting her brow slightly, Darcy looked over her shoulder again and wondered how this was even possible. She supposed it probably worked a bit like the Doctors. …actually… “You know how there’s a Ninth and a Tenth and an Eleventh Doctor on Doctor Who?” she started. “They’re the same person, just older and older versions with different faces? You’re like the second Conner, does that make sense…?” she tried. “Your three year old self…is hiding in my bedroom right now; we thought you were an intruder. Thus the bat…” she added sheepishly.
As his mother apologized to him, Conner couldn’t even tell her not to call him baby. Though, other times he really might have called her out on calling him a baby because he definitely wasn’t anymore. In this moment, the way things were...the baseball bat and how weirded out she was....well, that wasn’t something that Conner felt the need to say. Mainly he was just worried about what was going on, actually. “It’s okay, it’s not like you actually hit me with the bat or anything!” Conner said, attempting to be cheery. He didn’t want her to feel bad, so he gave her one of his trademark (or so he thought, anyway) grins. He looked rather like a puppy, actually. Hearing her words, Conner’s smile turned a bit sheepish and she shrugged a bit. “You’ve said that before.” This was weird. It was weird having his mother look at him like it was the first time she’d ever seen him in her life.
What she started to tell him....well that was definitely not what the teenage boy was expecting. He blinked stupidly for a moment. “2012?” He then looked down at himself a moment before back up and then around. “But I’m not three....and when I got in the shower it definitely wasn’t 2012....” He pointed out a little slowly, his mind slowly trying to work through what the hell was going on.
Conner’s brow was furrowed in confusion until his mother began to talk again, explaining, or attempting to explain, this situation. “Duh, I know that.” He said, nodding almost eagerly as his mother spoke. He didn’t particularly like the idea of being the second Conner. He even frowned a bit, tilting his head. “Yeah, it makes sense...” He wasn’t going to pout or whine about being the second, though. Looking around a moment Conner realized that....he didn’t have any clean clothes. Maybe it wasn’t the most opportune time, but...well he realized it. He was quiet a moment after she mentioned his younger self before a confused look covered his face. “Intruders break in to shower?” He asked a little curiously, but with a big of a grin on his face.
A moment after he said it, Conner couldn’t help but look toward the bedroom. “Little me is in there? ….This is weird....what am I supposed to do here? How do I go home?”
This was all a lot to take in. It was freaky enough when she’d thought he was a complete stranger breaking into their home. It was entirely another to find that he was just a future version of the three year old in the other room. When he pointed out that she hadn’t actually hit him with the bat, Darcy blushed and looked sheepish again. “I’m so sorry, baby, I really am. You just scared us, that’s all and…this isn’t the safest place to be living. Not the complex, I mean, but…Lawrence, I mean.” She wasn’t entirely sure that explaining that would even be necessary to him. Darcy suddenly wanted very badly to ask him if Ethan ever came. Or if Clark ever came back, but now was probably not the time for that.
“I…yeah. It’s 2012 and you are three…in my room, anyway,” she said, gesturing vaguely behind herself. “Speaking of which, is your brother here? I mean…too? This age? How old are you, anyway…?” she wondered aloud.
Conner pointed out that it was not entirely likely that someone would be breaking in to use her shower and Darcy felt stupid all over again. “I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking; they woke me up, I was half asleep when I came out here,” she sighed, raising a hand to her forehead again. “Yeah, little you and little Clark,” she replied. And then he posed a question she had no idea how to answer. “…I don’t know, baby…” she admitted sadly. “For now, you can stay here. In fact, I’d prefer it.”
Conner....was still a little confused, actually. It wasn’t that he didn’t get what was going on, but y’know time traveling was a little bit hard to wrap your head completely around, especially when you weren’t the smartest of kids (which was definitely how Conner viewed himself). At least he hadn’t gotten double-timed with baseball bat beatings and being sent to the past, that definitely helped. Conner brought his hand up when his mom began to talk again, almost warding off the apology, the other holding onto his towel. “It’s cool. I’m fine. I get it, I mean, I remember you talking about the past and whatever, so it’s cool. I’m sorry I scared you, I didn’t mean to.” He apologized, feeling bad. He didn’t like scaring his mom, usually. His brother was the one that instigated that kind of stuff, generally, not him.
As she detailed what year Conner was in he couldn’t help but be surprised. He was THREE here. Holy shit that was weird. Conner sort of peeked toward his mother’s room, but didn’t try all that hard. He didn’t want little him to see him half naked, really. If he had pants on it might have been a little different. “Weiiiird. I don’t even remember being three.” Conner said before looking at his mom and shrugging. “I dunno I haven’t seen him. He wasn’t in the shower with me or anything.” The teen joked followed by, “I’m seventeen.”
Conner shifted the towel a little bit and nodded. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have been so loud if I’d known that you were asleep or this was gonna happen. I was singing and being loud to annoy Clark. And I was trying to use all the hot water so he’d have to use cold.” Conner admitted a bit sheepishly. The teenager could only nod and shrug a little at his mom’s words. He was cool with staying here. “Someone’ll figure it out. Until then this is cool.”
Darcy wondered fleetingly, as Conner responded, if the future her had ever mentioned this very thing to her boys. She must not have or he’d have understood what was going on when she’d come out with the baseball bat. Which, honestly, she still felt really horrible about having done, all things considered. “It’s okay, Con, I know you didn’t,” she said quickly when he apologized for having scared her. As soon as she’d determined it was him, she’d known that it hadn’t been an intentional thing, after all.
“Smart ass,” she retorted with a small smirk, rolling her eyes playfully. “Seventeen…wow,” she breathed, taking that little tidbit in and mulling it over. Fourteen years in the future. Was she still considering herself married to Ethan by then? Had they ever been sent back to her London for any more brief stints? Darcy pushed those thoughts away and focused on the fact that her much older son was still standing there in the hallway in a towel. She nearly offered him something of Clark’s and the thought stung, not only because he’d been sent back, but because, she realized as soon as the idea had cropped up in her head, she wouldn’t have any of his clothes in her apartment this time, anyway; he’d barely spoken to her since she’d gotten back. “You do have clothes somewhere, right…? I mean, if you stepped into the shower in 2026 and stepped out in 2012…” she thought aloud.
“Don’t worry about it,” she insisted. “It’s fine. I should’ve been up anyway,” she added and then tacked on reflexively without even thinking, “I’ve just been depressed about Cl—” she paused, then, realizing and she shook her head. “Never mind. I should’ve been awake anyway, so it’s fine, don’t worry,” she finished. “Go get dressed,” she told him, “I’ll get the little ones ready and then we’ll go get you some clean clothes, okay?” she offered. “Just don’t…touch either of them. I don’t want you to create a bigger paradox than the Seal has already created for you; that could be very, very bad,” she said, chewing her bottom lip.
Conner wasn’t really worried in the least anymore. His mom wouldn’t ever have actually hit him with a bat, knowing that it was him. She was a good mom, not a bad one. She wasn’t particularly violent either. Conner never really worried about what his mom would do. Conner was just...a little bit of a mama’s boy. He wasn’t that bad, but mom was the one that was always around, so, really it was whatever. Conner brought one hand up, running it through his hair; it was pretty much already dry, actually. It wasn’t like he had a a lavish head of hair or anything. In fact, from standing here he was mostly dry already.
Conner grinned a bit impishly at her retort of ‘smart ass’. He was telling the truth. He really had no idea where Clark was. His brother hadn’t been in the shower with him. If he was here Clark had popped up somewhere else, obviously because Conner hadn’t seen him yet. The teenager only nodded, grinning slightly. “Yeah, we’re old. You tell us all the time how old you feel, actually. Just about every birthday makes you feel older.” He teased a little bit.
The teen shifted and as his mom asked about clothes Conner nodded. “My pants are in the bathroom...” And he took that moment to look around. “I don’t see my shirt in here. I took it off before I got to the bathroom, so I guess it didn’t come with me, but that’s cool. I don’t like wearing shirts most of the time, anyway.” Conner said with a smile.
“Okie doke.” Conner told his mother nodding and taking a step back toward the bathroom. “Hopefully Clark is here too.... though it’d be totally cool if he were younger or something.” Conner snickered, more to himself than to his mother and he moved back toward the bathroom. This was one way of getting his clothes up off of the floor.
“Can you blame me?” Darcy asked, grinning just slightly. Taking a step forward, she reached out and cupped the side of Conner’s face gently, then pulled her hand away again, looking down. That was bound to be awkward for him; he was, after all, just standing there in a towel in front of an exceptionally younger mother. It was just…well, having touched him, she knew he was really there; he wasn’t just in her imagination. “Sorry.”
Conner explained that his pants were in the bathroom but that he couldn’t find his shirt. “Oh! You brought it to me. Um, little you brought it to me, I’ll go get it,” she replied, trying to ignore the bit where he stated he didn’t like wearing shirts very often. That smacked so much of Marcus that it made her stomach turn a little. She made her way back to the bedroom and opened the door, looking over her shoulder at her son when he said he hoped his brother was here too. It hadn’t even really occurred to Darcy that he might not be. The thought sort of horrified her, if she was honest. “I hope so, too,” she replied, giving him a small smile when he said it’d be cool if his twin ended up younger than he was.
As Conner made his way back to the bathroom, Darcy headed back into her bedroom. “It’s okay, boys…you can come out,” she said softly, smiling when Clark poked his head up again, peeking at her over the edge of the bed.
“Really?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Really?” Conner asked, popping up, too.
Darcy smiled. “Yes, really. Come on,” she said, taking up older Conner’s shirt. “Mama checked and it’s safe. But you can’t touch him, the guy that was singing, okay? Especially you, Conner. This is very important,” she said and as the toddler twins came out from behind the bed to join her, they both nodded their understanding. “No touching. Hot,” she said, using her default reasoning for why the boys weren’t allowed to touch something. If she said it was hot, the boys tended not to want to touch it. And when they both replied, “okay, mama,” in unison, Darcy led the way back out of the bedroom.