[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

[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.