Human Miles Quaritch X Human Reader - Tumblr Posts
Red Rivers Run Deep
word count: 1787
Pairing: Human! Colonel Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader Tags/Warning: hurt, comfort, established relationship, slight angst, crying, period cramps Summary: Period pains aren't the only pain you're dealing with right now. You're grateful that your husband is there to comfort you.
Author's Note: So I wrote this, then didn't like what I wrote so I rewrote it TwT For the request from @idrinktheadarling Hope it's to your liking! Apologies as always for any grammatical mistakes.
You didn’t think something so insignificant could affect you to such a degree.
But it wasn’t insignificant, now was it?
The seemingly inoffensive pink line stares back at you.
Singular.
Negative.
You throw the pregnancy test in the trash, washing your hands with gusto as if to wash away the pain.
And it was not just the physical pain of your impending period that assaults you. Your heart is aching something fierce. You feel guilty. It was as if, what right did you have, to dream of such things? What deeds have you done, to earn such happiness?
If Eywa was real, then she did not bless you this day. If God was real, then you feel as though you are far beyond his reach.
You had been so sure, yet cautiously hoping. Your period was late, as was indicated on the app you used to track it. The pains you got were always severe, sometimes taking you out of commission completely.
You remember that you need to tell Grace you won’t be available for any field work for a few days, perhaps even a whole week. You call her through the commlink. True to her name, she was gracious in understanding of your situation. She can tell something is off; there is a troubled cadence to your voice underneath your hisses of pain. She doesn’t press you for answers. You ask her to send your husband your way should she see him.
Once you’re done with your call, you meander to the bed, carefully laying yourself on Miles’ side. His pillow smells so faintly of his cologne. And even though you clearly have matching bedding, his pillow somehow felt just that much softer.
Another slice of pain cuts through you, and you clench your teeth to bear through it. Fucking hell, you wish you could be in your Avatar right now. Never have you felt so envious of, what was essentially just another you; the Na’vi didn’t have periods like humans did.
You smile at the memory of when Grace had regaled you with the tale of mortified looks from the older Omatikayan children’s faces when she had explained the concept to them all years ago. You had laughed until your stomach ached when she tried imitating them.
“‘Sa’nok! Are you bleeding now?? Are you okay, does it hurt???’ Oh, poor Tsu’tey was beside himself!” Grace laughs with a hand to her heart. She’s still giggling when she tries making a disgruntled face, pretending to swat someone behind the head.
“‘Tsk! Skxáwng! It’s probably impolite to ask such things! Sorry Sa’nok, please pay him no mind.’ Sylwanin gave him an earful for that one. She was always so bright that one, wise beyond her years…” Her voice trails off then. You see the shift in her gaze, the sadness behind her faltering smile. Even years later, the pain of what those soldiers did still lingers...
Another stab of pain interrupts your trip down memory lane. You curse out loud, clutching your abdomen. You don’t feel like stumbling through the base to medical for some pain killers.
You close your eyes, trying your best to will yourself to sleep. If Eywa could not bless you with a child, then maybe she would at least let slumber take you.
---
When next you open your eyes, you look out the window to see night has already fallen. The pain has subsided to a dull ache. You notice then, that a hot water bottle has been nestled against you, with your hands carefully maneuvered to hold it in place.
What? Who? When?
The answer is immediately obvious. The sounds from the bathroom catch your ears; the shower is running, and you can hear the faint yet distinct sound of familiar humming. Miles must have come in some time whilst you slept on, placing the warm bottle where it now lay.
You let out a deep content sigh, readjusting yourself and the bottle to be more comfortable on your side, facing away from the bathroom door. You eye then catches the items placed on the bedside table. There is a thermos, and when you reach out to touch it, the bottle still feels hot. Beside it sits some pain killers in a small plastic cup.
You sit up, propping yourself against the pillows. And as you do, you see the bag sitting at your bedside. It’s filled with little boxes and packets of your favourite snacks; at least the ones available here on Pandora.
You lip quivers, and you feel as though you could cry. You love the small gestures just as much as the grand. You clear your throat, vigorously rubbing your cheeks to stop yourself from crying. You grab the thermos. You unscrew the lid and sniff the hot contents. The smell is delectable and enticing. Your pour yourself some in the lid and drink it down greedily.
You sit there, drinking from the thermos in quiet contemplation.
The dull ache in your lower abdomen pulls your mind back to that accursed test in bin. You wonder if Miles saw it, what would say? Would he share in your sadness? Would he be relieved? Would he berate you for wanting to even start a family?
But what was really waiting for you there? A dying world? Was there even anything worth going back for? You had no immediate family. The only family you truly had now, was here, on this planet light years away. And who knew how long you’d even be stationed here anyway; this was for all intents and purposes your new home. And despite its rough edges, you loved this place to bits.
Did you even want to start a family on Pandora? You know all too well the hostility of this place. It was probably a stupid idea, wanting to have kids here. It would be a far better idea to wait until you’re both shipped back home.
And you love your husband dearly. And you are certain, without a shadow of a doubt, he loves you back just as much. You feel apprehensive though; the two of you had spoken of kids before, but it was always around ‘when we get back home’. Pandora never did feel like home for him; probably never would.
Your lips press into a thin line as your mind spirals lower. Why this time, out of all the other times…Why was it this particular time, that you’re so disappointed?
You don’t even realize the noise from the bathroom has stopped. Nor do you even register when Miles emerges from the bathroom dressed for bed.
---
Miles stops himself in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning on the door frame. He takes the time to stare at you, study you. You’re sitting up in bed, drinking from the thermos he brought. Your eyes are unfocused, staring blanking ahead. He wonders what’s on your mind, but he has a pretty good idea of what it could be. He had seen the test in the bin. Luckily, he didn’t need to pick it up; it had been facing upward, the pink line in plain sight.
He watches the micro expressions that dance across your face as your mind wonders. There is a tightness in his chest, and he quietly grimaces. He knows he needs to talk to you; you are clearly upset and the air needs to be cleared. When he sees the threat of tears in your eyes, the quiver of your lip, he swiftly pushes himself off the wall.
---
The sound of his approach has you snap your head up to him. It takes you a moment to register, but you offer him a gentle smile. It does not reach your eyes.
“Hi honey,” you greet him, holding up the thermos. “Thanks for this, I really need it. All of it, actually…” You return the thermos to the bedside.
“It’s no trouble sweetheart, anything for my best girl.” He lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms does. You nestle yourself into his side, head resting on his shoulder, hand resting on his chest, the hot water bottle sandwiched between you two.
“[Y/N]…Are you okay?”
It’s such a simple question. Requires a simple answer.
Instead you cry. He turns himself to face you, arms wrapping around you. He pulls you to him, your hands fist into his shirt tightly.
His hand leaves warm patterns in your back, his mouth whispers comforts into the softness of your hair.
When you manage to calm yourself, reduced to only sniffing, you finally speak.
“I’m…sorry…” you manage to choke out. He tuts you, and you feel him shake his head.
“You don’t ever have to apologise darling; least of all to me. You wanna cry, you go ahead and cry.” He wipes your face with tissues you didn’t even see him grab.
You open your mouth to speak, but instead you groan in pain as you’re hit with another wave of pain.
“Did you take the painkillers?”
“No…forgot…”
Miles reaches behind you, grabbing the little cup. He hands it to you, and you wordlessly take it. You wash down the pills with a swig from the thermos.
Miles instructs you to lie on your back. He moves his hand under the pillow, laying on his side, pressed into you. He moves the water bottle away, replacing it with his hand instead.
Slowly he rubs your lower abdomen in gentle circles. The light pressure almost feels like a massage. You let out a content sigh as the pain subsides back into the dull ache. You feel his breath tickle the hair on your head.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks vaguely.
“Not…right now. Maybe tomorrow? When I’m not in so much pain please…” You answer, and he’s not entirely convinced you’re only talking about cramps.
“Of course sweetheart,” he plants a kiss to your temple. “I love you.”
“I love you too, thank you…” You close your eyes, leaning your head into him.
“If it means anything…I just want you to know, I think you’d be a great mom…And I’d love nothing more to start a family with you…Even if it has to be on Pandora.”
You turn your head to look at him then. His gaze speaks a thousand words. All of them feel like declarations of love. You lean up and he instinctively leans down to meet you half way.
Your lips press upon one another in a soft languid kiss; soft and tender with metered passion.
And just as his hand lessens the pain in your lower abdomen, so too do his words lessen the pain in your heart.
You feel assured, that everything will be okay.