#askastrid

“MOM. There are a bunch of weird people wearing robes at the door!” Your ten-year-old screams from across the apartment.

Feeling your blood run cold, you drop the scorching pan and head to the front door.

In a matter of seconds, you are shielding your son from the crowd in front of him. Met with six pairs of familiar eyes and one stranger, you find yourself at a loss for words.

“I take it, he’s not good with strangers?” Kingo questions and the shorter man holding a camera nods furiously.

A couple of years ago, you would have jumped at the idea of reuniting, but staring at the tired faces of your teammates reminds you of the harsh reality.

You want to be angry. You want to scream and cry at the group for abandoning you and showing up like nothing happened. For breaking their promise to remain united. And more importantly, for missing out on some of the most crucial moments of your life.

Sensing your uneasiness, you feel your boy rest his head on your back.

His selfless act reminds you of the unconditional love you gained through their abandonment, and you begin to feel yourself relax.

You won’t express any resentment, at least not in front of him.

“So are you going to let us in or not?” Sprite’s comment is met with a backhanded hit on the head from Sersi, who attempts to flash you a sympathetic smile.

“What?" She turns around quickly, eyeing her attacker. "We’re all thinking it. Besides it’s freezing.” She hisses and you notice Ikaris and  Thena nod in agreement.

The scene is one that you have witnessed centuries ago and it feels as though nothing and just about everything has changed.

Opening the door further you step aside, gesturing for the group to enter.

“Well... I was just making dinner. So you lot are welcome to join us.”  You turn your attention towards your son who gives you a thumbs up in approval.

“Yeah, and take off your shoes while you’re at it.” He chirps before dashing to the kitchen.

Like clockwork, your fellow Eternals manage to toss their shoes in a row before following your son into the kitchen. That is all of them except for Druig.

Staying back, he watches as your son practically bounces off the walls, his blue orbs as bright as day as he talks about his favorite dishes.

“He’s mine isn’t he?” Druig question comes out as almost a whisper and you aren't entirely sure if he's asking you or himself.

You ponder denying the inedible, but anyone with common sense would recognize the physical similarities between the two. After all, you essentially birthed a walking clone of Druig.

“While you did help conceive him, I wouldn't go as far as to call him yours.”  You lash out at him, anger beginning to rise in your chest once more.

The statement takes a toll on Druig, and you watch as he flinches in response.

“That was a stupid question." He scratches the back of his head, waiting for you to retort. Met with silence, he continues.

"But if I may ask. What is his name?” He turns to you, the tears in the corners of his eyes beginning to grow more and more apparent.

Deciding to show him an ounce of sympathy, you respond.

“His name is Artemis. But he prefers to go by Artie.”

You can feel Druig’s stare from the corner of your eye, but you refuse to make contact.

“I want to get to know him. I want for my son to know that he has a father who loves and cares for him."

The declaration feels like a slap in the face.

Especially after he mentioned not wanting anything to do with you all those years ago.

“Let’s get whatever this situation you guys are dealing with under control. And maybe," you emphasize the last word,  "we can talk about visitation rights.”

You don’t wait for his response as you walk towards Artie.

As Druig watches you rejoin the team, he is filled with a newfound sense of determination.