Makeshift. @ 06:39 am
Rating: Um. PG13.
Pairing: Kind of Ryan/Alyssa?
Disclaimer: Part mine, part Tina's.
Notes: ...this was all tonight. It's probably horrible. Because I got the idea from a Secret Life of the American Teenager fanfiction. Also, I use pronouns way too much and only a couple times do I ever even mention Alyssa by name. I don't think I ever explicitly say Ryan. IDevenK what this is, but it makes Alyssa in my head sad. And I am sleeping now because I stayed up to finish it. Night, bitches.
It would have been as simple as this got. It would have been perfect and beautiful, even if it hadn’t seemed like that was at all possible in the first place.
He would have held her that first night, let her cry whatever she had to out before sitting down and making a decision. It would have been the right one because they'd made it together. He'd have been there at the first appointment and all the rest of them, would have pointed to it's spine and arms and head and toes in amazement. She'd have gotten obnoxious phone calls at the same times every day and night asking how she felt until he eventually just moved in. They would have been more and more cramped in her double bed as she got bigger and bigger, until Ben gave in and put a queen bed in his office. Maybe someone would have put up a partition, turned it into a little apartment. A makeshift home for their little makeshift family.
He would have rubbed that spot on her back that really fucking hurt when she was in labor and he would have cut Cassie’s umbilical cord. The night she came home from the hospital, he would have split the late-night feedings with Alyssa. He would insist and she would insist and it would end with him being able to get up before her. They’d sit on the bed and coo over the baby even though they were exhausted and frustrated. Maybe even let her sleep in between them. They would kiss her and kiss each other before falling asleep for a grand total of two more hours.
Ben and Peter would shoot daggers with their eyes every time they saw him, but eventually, it would fade into a small curl of the fist of eye roll. And then, not right away, bur eventually, they would warm up to him. Once they saw the baby and saw that they loved her even if she was a part of him, and they saw him with the baby. They’d get used to him, maybe even grow a little fond. Lily would roll her eyes at him and think it was weird that he lived there, but secretly, she’d be really glad that he moved in, because it was like having a brother and a sister and a niece all at once.
They’d go to school for a few years, and get jobs until they could have their own apartment. It wouldn’t be far, but it’d be far enough to make them adults. She would decorate it the way she wanted to and Cassie’s room would be completely pink. Maybe they’d even have another baby. And they’d get a dog. It’d be like a book or a movie. He’d come home from work and they’d have just enough time for a peck on the cheek before the kids ran up to him. They’d eat dinner and talk about their days. She’d do the dishes while he read them bedtime stories, and then they’d crawl into their own bed and fall asleep in each other’s arms without ever imagining somewhere else they’d rather be.
But he doesn’t. And she doesn’t. And they don’t.
Instead, he pushes her out of the house and tells her not to call. She goes home and obeys. Never calls, never goes back to his house, never does anything except for leave him one stupid note on his stupid car and obviously doesn’t get a response. She fits in her bed no matter how fat she gets and the bedroom she grew up in suddenly makes her feel inherently more grown up. She’s in labor for ten hours and is too nervous to ask anyone to do anything for her except be quiet and stop asking her questions. A doctor cuts her daughter’s umbilical cord because she’s seventeen and has barely even cut her own.
The first night she’s home from the hospital, she goes to Ben with a baby in her arms who’s crying almost as hard as she is. She quietly cries herself to sleep in between her own parents and lets them deal with her child, because maybe she’s just a damn fucking little girl.
And it gets better, and she learns. She figures out that you can’t bounce Cassie, you have to rock her, or else she’ll spit up. That Cassie doesn’t like to sleep on her back, just on her stomach. That in just the right position, she can breastfeed and do pre-calc at the same time. That she’s not going to fit into her pointe shoes anymore, and on top of everything, Ben and Peter have to buy her new ones because, hell, she just figured out how to dance with a baby against her chest.
Ben and Peter help as much as they can, or should. They babysit so she can go to school or go out with Stacey once a month. She’s convinced they’re still a little upset about the whole thing, but they don’t show it, and it’s not like they don’t love Cassie or treat Alyssa like their little girl. It falls somewhere between helpful and crippling, but it makes her feel better. Even Lily is helpful and babysits for short periods of time, or gets flustered when you catch her reading Pride and fucking Prejudice to a sleeping five month old.
Six years instead of four go by, and she has the degree, but not a house or a dog and thank God not another baby. She’s still in her full sized bed, in a bedroom where you can barely walk between her desk and the toy chests, in her parents’ house. When she goes to bed, she has to push the blankets down around Cassie and slide in between them, and be careful not to wake her up. It’s a process on most nights, but by the time she’s covered and her pillows are right, Cassie’s usually unconsciously pressed herself into Alyssa’s chest and started nuzzling her shoulder, and Alyssa’s not sure how she ever imagined herself sleeping a different way.