[For Jason]

[illuxinated]

Never in Lux's life has she been so grateful to get her period. Even with as messy and inconvenient it is, she's been consistently glad for it ever since she became sexually active, but the jubilation from this particular period far outstrips them all. She'd really, genuinely thought for the past few weeks that she was pregnant.

Her euphoria is short lived, however, the relief of not being a teenage mother tempered by the heavy knowledge that Jason isn't likely to take it well. To think, she'd worried he'd be upset with her for being pregnant; now, she's worried he'll be upset with her because she's not.

Sitting cross-legged atop the big, wide bed that helped get them in this mess, Lux stares down at the K-100 ad she'd clipped from the Portland paper months ago, cradled in her lap by careful hands. The night sounds are only just beginning to creep in through the open windows, and she knows Jason will climb through one of them soon. He always does.

Comments

[illuxinated]

If it's possible, Jason's attentiveness makes Lux more reluctant to simply have out with it, but lying to him is never really an option. Even if she didn't feel so awful anytime she tried, she's horrible at it.

"Jason, I—" she begins, gaze flicking briefly over to his face, brow deeply furrowing with worry. "I'm sorry, but. I started my period."

[prodigaljaybird]

For a long moment, Jason's face doesn't even change, the worry for her on his face bleeding easily into a confused and tentative grief. "But," he says, wetting his lips when he pulls back to look at her, at her stomach, "what's that mean? Were you late or - " Did she lose it? Miscarriage looks the same, he read it, and he can't - he can't stand the thought of it, this baby he'd picked a name for alive and then nothing at all.

"What happened?" he asks, expression crumpling at last.

[illuxinated]

The disappointment and grief in Jason's expression shoots straight through her, a sharp and sudden pain that makes the dull ache she's been carrying all afternoon seem minor in comparison. She'd never been one of those foster kids who couldn't wait to have their own kids to replace the family they'd not been lucky enough to grow up with, but she gets it. Deeply and profoundly, she understands.

"I think I was just late," Lux is quick to say, although in truth she can't possibly know without a visit to the clinic. If it really was one of those spontaneous miscarriages, she doesn't want to know about it, and doesn't want Jason to, either. "Stress, maybe. The last few months haven't been that easy."

Her chin trembles and she reaches for him, pressing her cheek in against his neck. "I'm sorry," she repeats in a tremulous voice, curling her fingers into the front of Jason's shirt.

[prodigaljaybird]

His head jerks, the movement caught between his denial that it's her fault and a nod of assurance he can't seem to give. Not pregnant, just stress, and that's his doing, every horrible thing that followed him from Gotham visited on not just himself but her, on Lux who's kind and doesn't deserve to be so unhappy that her body fucks up.

He presses his face to her hair and holds back a sob as best he can, but it comes whimpering out anyway. It should feel stupid, missing a child he never really had, but it doesn't, it just hurts. No matter how he holds onto her, how hard he wills himself to be strong for her, it just hurts.