somethingwithturquoise | Summer's Voicemail.

The long, long, long pause that followed more than made up for the swiftness in which Summer had answered the phone.

"I'm sorry," she said, holding back a small rant on how this was clearly just another example of texting being superior because text was clear and, while it entirely lacked the nuance of tone and subtext, could not be misheard, "did you say you were pregnant?"

"Ye...yes," Liz managed to choke out, "I'm ... I'm seven weeks pregnant and I'm having a girl and the baby's Prompto's!"

Just in case she needed to clarify whose child she was carrying.

Excuse Summer for a moment while she thought back on the math with that one, because how had it not even been two months since all of this started? She felt like it had been practically going on for a lifetime at this point. But no....no, that definitely tracked, and then Summer wrinkled her nose because that was not something she needed to ever be thinking about with regards to the guy who chose the sexbot option in her class that one time.

No, Prompto Argentum, she was never letting that one go.

"Jesus Christ, Liz," Summer then sighed, eventually, pinching the bridge of her nose for a second. "And you're sure it's, like, actual pregnant this time, and not, like, Fandom weirdness pregnant?"

Because, you know, that had happened before!

"I'm positive, I'm actually pregnant this time ..." Liz let out a sob, so much for not crying, "my friend Abe, he's - I don't know if I talked about him before? He's psychomatic ... he knows everything when he touches something or someone ... he, that's how he found out ... on my birthday,"

She was full on crying by now.

Another point for text: not having to listen to someone crying on the other end of the line without being able to do so much as offer a tissue about it. Summer let Liz work that out a little bit before offering, "Heeeeeey. Happy Birthday...yaaaaaay."

Okay, so, point for calls, because good luck trying to convey that kind of dry irony via text or emoji.

And then, the important part:

"So. What are you planning on doing about it?"

It took Liz a few moments to compose herself, enough to calm down so she could answer Summer's question.

At least she was prepared enough based on her previous conversations to know what she was going to do regarding the pregnancy, "I'm, I'm going to continue with the pregnancy," she said softly, "raise the baby ... I ... I thought I'd be married when I had a family, Dr. Lecter told me it wasn't a sin to have a baby when the parents aren't married ... it's I just wish I could tell Prompto,"

"Yeah, that's a pretty top-notch deadbeat dad move right there," said Summer, who was so shooting off a few strongly worded texts into the ether after this conversation was over, "knock a girl up and then fuck off to another dimension without contact."

Yes, she understood that Prompto hadn't probably meant to do any of that, but still....talk about a perfect storm of Lifetime movie channel trope-y goodness.

She sighed.

"Well, you know," she reasoned, "we still have the communicators going and I'll definitely keep trying to get the portal gun through. Hopefully, they're not all just de--"

Summer realized that the direction she was going was absolutely NOT something to say to a newly pregnant emotion mess (another point, texting: the ability to EDIT), and quickly changed course:

"--diiiiicking around out there and it's still just a matter of time. I mean, in the grand scheme of things, two months even isn't that long. I've fucked off for a few months before, and around here? Anything's possible, you know?"

Liz let out another sob, remembered that breathing was a thing and tried to compose herself again, "I'm ... I - I'm scared of raising a baby by myself," she admitted, "there's so much to prepare for - do I ... do I wait and see if I hear from him before I start preparing? I - I want him to be there, if he - if he even wants to raise a child with me after everything I did," she said softly.

"You're not going to be raising it by yourself, Liz," Summer said, hoping she could hear the eyeroll that went with that statement. "You have friends. It takes a village, and all that shit, you know? And we don't know how long it will be before we have contact again, so waiting on him to prepare would just be stupid. That baby sure as hell isn't going to wait--"

Well, it was a Fandom baby, it might, who the hell knew, but her guess was probably not.

"--so neither should you."

There was a slight, hesitating pause, though, before she added, "You have really got to work on getting your shit together if you're going to go through with this, though, Liz. Like, seriously. Remember what I said before? About acting with intention and not just letting yourself get swept up in all this emotion and confusion? That. But times, like, a hundred now."

Liz hiccuped and nodded, not that Summer could see that, “sorry - I think the hormones have just really got to me, made everything seem worse,” she hesitated, “Dr. Lecter’s going to look at changing my medication when I get back,” she added quietly.

She paused, Marc had told her that she wouldn’t be alone either, it was still something she couldn’t quite comprehend, “I, I don’t even know where to begin with preparing for a baby…” she said quietly.

"Well," said Summer, "we can start by finding you a good ob/gyn as soon as possible, if you don't already have one," somehow, Summer definitely got the impression that something like that generally would have slipped Liz's attention over the years, "and, yeah, talking with Dr. Lecter about your medication's a good step, too. Nice thing about most babies is they definitely give you plenty of time to figure shit out. You've got until, what?" Give her a second to math. "February? March? Barring Fandom weirdness, of course."

Prompto was, technically speaking, an alien, after all. Maybe Eosians gestated faster. She didn't know. But it would be kind of weird if they very bizarrely had the same calendar as Earth and yet broke all the rules with fetal development.

Liz had definitely not thought about having an ob/gyn. She had only just started to factor how much she had to prepare and it was going to be expensive.

“I - I do t gave an ob/gyn,” she admitted, “I - I thought I’d be a couple of years away from starting a family,” she said softly, “but I - I think it’s February, I - I don’t know how the pregnancy will go - with I mean the baby could also be pyrokinetic - what if there’s complications during the birth?”

Yes that worry had definitely been playing on Liz’s mind since Marc had mentioned it.

Welp. That was now two visuals Summer could have gone her whole life without having in one phone conversation...

"I mean," said Summer, ever the realist, "there could be complications in any birth, regardless of pyrokinetics, maybe something we figure out along the way. What about family history? Were there any complications for your mom when you were born?

"But we should definitely find you a doctor," she decided. "You want to go together? Make it a thing? Wd can go, like, doctor shopping, or I can hook you up with mine, she's pretty used to some weird shit by now."

“I - I don’t know, my mum never talked about anything like that - they just thought - they thought it was a punishment from God - what was wrong with me - I - I don’t know anything about my family history,” Liz admitted, “the rest of my extended family - don’t talk to me,”

There was a pause, “But I - I would like that - looking for a doctor. I’m - I’m going to need to go to a doctor who isn’t freaked out by the whole pyrokinetic part. Am I?”

"It definitely wouldn't hurt," Summer allowed, "although it's not likely to get a lot of hits to search 'pyrokinetic friendly gynecologists in my area' in this dimension. Thankfully, though, we got options on that front, and we don't need to worry about that right away, we just need to get you started and set up, you know?"

“I - I think now that the shocks starting to wear off - there’s so much I’m going to need - that I need to figure out, I mean babies are expensive - I - I have have some some savings but not a lot,” she admitted, “Dr. Lecter said I can start preparing to - to focus my energy on something and I’m going to need things like maternity clothes as well - none of my clothes will fit me in a few months…” her voice trailed off.

"Liz," Summer said, her voice dropping into a very, very serious tone, "I literally live for shopping trips, my boyfriend is a literal billionaire, and I have access to his credit card. We good. And if you feel bad about it, you can just, like, totally just owe me for the rest of your life, I'm cool with that."

Liz was blaming the hormones for why she suddenly started crying again right at that moment, “you …you would do that for me?” she managed to get out, “I - I you should be hating me, I was a terrible friend to you and you- you …” she wasn’t going to be able to finish that sentence for a moment as she tried to compose herself.

Ohhhh, this was going to be a fun seven months, wasn't it?

Summer just sort of sat there to let Liz work that out a little. Maybe attempting to telepathically pat the other woman on the shoulder or something comfortingly, or whatever.

"You weren't a terrible friend," she clarified. "You were just really, really dumb. And, apparently, hormonal. Not that you should start thinking you can use that as an excuse for being dumb, by the way, but you're hardly the first person to not listen to my advice. And they didn't even have baby brain. I'm not just going to leave a friend hanging like that, especially when your situation textbook sucks."

A beat.

"Like, seriously, girl, you need all the help you can get."

It was going to be so much fun.

Liz took a moment or rather several moments to compose herself.

“It’s like I’m living some kind of soap opera,” she sighed, “I mean my life has never been normal but this …my boyfriend being stuck in another dimension, me being pregnant with his child …I never thought I’d be in this situation,” she considered, “I’m - im glad you’re still my friend,” she said softly, “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t,”

"Be a whole lot less cool," Summer supplied without missing a beat, "and hopeless, too. And I don't think anyone expects to wind up in a situation like yours, but it could be worse. I mean, at least it seems yoi've gotten over that whole Steven thing."

Followed by a very important, weighty pause.

"You have gotten over the whole Steven things, right?"

Summer figured either she had or Liz had just gotten smart enough to not bring it up.

Liz was kind of hoping Summer had forgotten what an extremely terrible mess she’d made over the whole thing and winced when she mentioned it.

“I have … I - I was confused, I - I mean I still care about him but not in a romantic way … I - ” she hesitated, “ … I do still want to be friends with him, I - I haven’t told Steven yet about the pregnancy, I was going to tell him when I got back,”

Oh, what, a complete cringe cudgel like that? Liz. Honey. Summer was never going to let you forget it.

"Yeah, well," said Summer, cradling the phone against her shoulder as she picked idly at a hangnail, "when you do, make sure to watch his face and see if he starts salivating. Like, I know you like this guy or whatever, but he was giving me some major vibes of the serial killer variety the other day, and he seemed to get particularly weird about two-for-one specials."

As a friend who was at least now glad that she didn't have to worry about having Barry trace that last text she'd received from Liz to make sure it hadn't been coming from inside the house, so to speak, she felt obligated to at least mention it.

Liz was suddenly very glad that Summer couldn’t see her expression because it suddenly looked very guilty.

“That - that doesn’t sound like him, I don't know why he would get weird about two for one specials,” Liz tried to go for a casual approach but knew she didn’t sound very convincing, because she totally knew why Steven would freak out at that, “maybe he was just having an off day? He did say he was having memory problems that day, he mentioned he forgot to wish you happy birthday"

There was a pause and then, "even though I think I might be the one with memory problems, I - I completely forgot it was your birthday, I'm so sorry,"

"Whatever," said Summer, and you could practically hear the shrug in her voice. "It's not a big deal, but he should really go see someone about that memory loss thing. He totally avoided it and tried to word-salad me until he could make a hasty exit when I brought it up, which definitely wasn't helping. But maybe he'll be more receptive hearing it from the vulnerable pregnant lady he definitely didn't conveniently latch onto during her big fat moment of weakness."

Summer's Voicemail.

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