#stella;self

Who→ Stella When→ Sometime in July 2016, about 1 year after losing Scott, Rigel is around 7 months old Words→ 401 What→ **Reposted from here, polished up with some minor editing** One of many mornings in Stella's attempt to work through the grieving process while navigating as a single first time parent Prompt→ no. 7 - Waking Up Alone

It had become routine by now. Her morning routine rarely varied unless she or Rigel had a doctor’s appointment. Some mornings had become harder than others, and there wasn’t anything Stella could do to fix it. She found herself lying wide awake at night, only to be rudely awakened by her alarm less than four hours later. Stella often wondered if Rigel had a sixth sense about this; not disturbing his mother in the few hours of fitful sleep she managed to get each night, and was always wide awake and chewing on his toes when she would come get him to start his morning. She appreciated how intuitive her son was. She appreciated that he didn’t make her nights much harder than they were and that he tended to be a quiet baby. It was as if he knew that she had become sound sensitive. Not that the silence was any better. It was still deafening, it just started to get a little quieter.

@stevienicksrps​

Stella wasn’t sure how she always managed to end up trapped in the smallest room - larger than the closet this time, thankfully - but Estevan had managed to lock her and Finnegan in the room, shouting something that it was in their best interest. They knew it was fruitless to try the door, Este would have something stopping it from being opened from the inside. The only problem, as Stella found out once she did a pat down of her pockets, she didn’t have her phone on her to send Hazel or Logan a message and from the look on Finn’s face...he didn’t have his either.

Very rarely did Stella voice her frustration with Rigel's vocabulary, or lack thereof.  She could say she understood that kids did things at their own pace until she was blue in the face; but when it came down to it, it was starting to take its toll on her with her own son. With the age of four approaching and her son's verbal communication not improving beyond the handful of words he'd been using, Stella was losing any hope that her son would be able to fully verbalize anything. She could figure out what he was telling her but not without plenty of trial, error and frustrated screams to get there. With the lack of vocabulary came the unsolicited advice and while Stella was putting some research into finding a speech pathologist for Rigel, she still believed that it would all change overnight and she wouldn’t have to worry about how far behind he was falling compared to his peers.

The workers at the daycare would inform Stella if Rigel had formed a new word or if a string of nonsense words were incredibly close to what he was trying to convey and she would take that as a small step towards victory. Still, there were certain words Stella was itching to hear and with each passing day and the very enthusiastic message of “He asked for apples today!” followed by Rigel repeating the word apples as clear as day, Stella’s desire for those words was continuing to grow. Soon. She'd tell herself, believing that as soon as the magic words came out of Rigel's mouth that she would never tire of hearing it. 

Still Stella worked at home and in transit, constantly talking to Rigel, doing anything to get him to pick up more. Hell, even if Rigel were to start cursing because he didn't know better, she would take it. Anything would pass at this point. 

"I want to hear my name!" She had lamented to her mother, pulling at the ends of her hair in frustration while Rigel and her father played in another room. "It's frustrating hearing him call Scott or Finn 'dad' and I'm just a string of sounds." Stella dragged one hand down her face, not bothering to look up at her mother.  "I know he knows who I am and that's all I can really ask for but I just…Mom, I want to hear him call me mom. Just once." The couch dipped next to Stella where her mother sat down, the woman placing her hand on top of her daughter's and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You can't rush him Stella. He's getting there, he's just doing it in his own time." Loren's words were soft, as she attempted to reassure Stella that everything would be alright in due time. A frustrated groan left Stella, knowing that her mother's words weren't meant to irritate her but they weren't what she wanted to hear in the moment.

"And what if he never says it?"

"Then you'll be called something else and it will be just as good, if not better." Stella grunted in response, although her mother's words brought some sort of comfort to her.

"Stella!" Stella stood to follow the sound of her father's voice, standing in the doorway to see what was happening before her. "Stella, listen to this." Xavier turned his attention to Rigel, pulling the three year old into his lap. "Rigel, who am I?" 

"Papa!" Stella's expression darkened briefly before she forced a smile onto her face, squatting and holding her hands out so Rigel could climb into her arms.

"Good job, bud! That's your Papa!" Stella gave Rigel a small squeeze, almost wanting to tempt fate to see if he could say who she was. Stella let Rigel go so he could return to playing, feeling her mother's presence behind her. One look at her father's face told her that her parents were sharing a look.

"Ah, Lor, what was that thing you wanted me to fix again?" Stella watched as her father got up and followed her mother out, leaving her alone with her son. Stella moved further into the room and sat on the floor near Rigel, allowing him to bring over the toys he had been playing with earlier. 

Stella and Rigel played in a sort of silence, the only noises that came from them were the excitable nonsense and sound effects Rigel came up with. Stella hummed as Rigel continued with his nonsense words, taking all the toys he had shoved in Stella’s lap before settling himself in the now clean spot.

“Are you ready to go home, Ri? Eat dinner?”

“Apples?” Stella nodded, nuzzling her nose into Rigel’s shoulder.

“We can have apples.” Rigel bounced in Stella’s lap, turning his body to throw his arms around her neck and squeezing tightly in a hug. “How about chicken nuggets too?” A squeal gave her the answer she was looking for and Stella made a soft noise in response. She held onto Rigel as she got to her feet, stooping over to place him back on the ground. “Clean up first then we eat.”

“Eat!” Rigel stared at his mother, waiting to see if she’d budge on the idea of cleaning up but with a soft but stern ‘clean’, Rigel crossed his arms and pointed at his small pile, looking back at Stella with an incredibly pitiful look on his face.

“What do you say if you need help?” she asked, squatting back to his level, reaching for one of the toys to hand to him.

“Mama!” Stella froze, unsure if she heard him correctly, the toy falling out of her grasp.

“Wha-what do you say, baby?” 

“Help!” Stella started to shake her head before nodding. “Mama help me!” 

“Y-yeah, that’s exactly it. Rigel, who am I?”

“Mama!” Stella pulled him into her arms and held him tight.

*BONUS*

who→ Stella and Rigel what→ Mother-son bonding time at the aquarium words→ 896

who→ Stella, mentions of Scott and @infinitelonging ‘s Hazel and brief appearance by Rigel what→ starting over warnings→ none? words→ 724

“You just aren’t doing enough, Stella.” Stella bit her tongue, not going to retort with what was on the tip of her tongue. She wasn’t doing enough? Stella could list on both hands just what she did and had to adjust to make sure the house wasn’t a complete disaster every time she turned around. To make sure that he wasn’t a complete disaster. Stella pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a long sigh into the receiver. Arguing in her defense could lead to them bringing Scott back and letting her handle as she had been or they'd keep him longer; the argument showing that she was fighting just to fight. In the end, Stella really couldn't see either option as a win. Their conversation ended shortly after that, no promise of when Scott would come back home, just that he’d be home when they decided he could do more to take care of himself. Even Stella knew in the deepest part of her that it'd be longer than anybody would anticipate.

who→ Stella, Rigel and @infinitelonging​‘s Finnegan Wallace what→ a moment when→ one afternoon/early evening words→ 857 warnings→ the saddest thing to ever grace ur screens. None actually

There was something to the delighted screech that came from Rigel the minute he laid eyes on Finn that brought a bit of a smile to Stella’s face. Rigel let go of her hand and barrelled into Finn’s legs, reaching up so he could be picked up. She chuckled once Rigel got his wish, watching as the toddler tried to squish his cheeks in form of greeting. “Sorry it’s kind of short notice but I guess therapy has been moved to the house.” she apologized, reaching into the diaper bag she had slung over her shoulder to offer Rigel one of his stuffed toys to distract him for a moment.

She was looking at a fucking ghost. Nothing about the sight before Stella was right and no matter how many times she imagined her past year and a half with a different result, this wasn’t it. There was no way in hell that this was what she held onto for over a year. What was worse was that she didn’t know if she should cry, scream or any combination of the two. Stella stood frozen in place, knuckles turning white from the grip she held on her phone.

Stella felt the warmth of fresh tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying, a choked sob alerting her to what reaction she had involuntarily chosen. Even with the tears blurring her vision she was still seeing a ghost. She reached up to wipe away the tears and the snot starting to run from her nose, taking a shaky breath in the process. She still couldn’t move, her legs felt like lead and as much as she wanted to even take a step back, she was rooted to the spot.

“H-how?” she managed to get out, letting her phone fall to the carpet. This had to have been some sort of fever dream, that was the only explanation for it. Stella reached out, wanting so desperately to touch but pulled her hand back. If she touched and he went away she’d be more upset than she could even dream of. “I-thought- I thought…” she trailed off, unable to gather her words. Instead he moved towards her, albeit hesitantly and Stella felt her legs give out underneath her, her body wracked with heavy sobs as she sat on the floor of the living room.

None of this was right, none of this should have even been plausible. It was another dream laced with good intentions and she wanted to wake up from it. But the sudden start and pounding of her heart never came. All she had was a long, heavy silence, save for her sobs. Nothing in her grief counseling had prepared her for this. Prepared her for when everything she thought she had known was shredded to pieces by the appearance of one person. The one that had long since been buried.

She really didn’t know what she was expecting, arms wrapping around her and assuring her everything was okay? Everything around her stood still for moments too long before an arm hesitantly wrapped around her shoulders, pulling Stella into the middle of their chest, a shushing noise coming from the lips that were pressed against the crown of her head.

ix.

Stella stood silently, eyes focused on the dust collecting on the shiny granite of the headstone before her. She rubbed Rigel’s back through the wrap tied around her front, shushing him gently from making too much noise and disturbing any others that may be near. “See?” she said to nobody in particular, pressing her nose to the crown of her son’s head. “I told you I could do it.” She fell silent again, taking a moment to settle herself on the ground. “Let’s see…” she trailed off, untying the wrap to free Rigel so she could sit him up in her lap.

All she had to do was some small reflecting and it wouldn’t take much for Stella to fall apart. She still kept up old habits, crossing off days on the calendar and leaving a voice message for her husband, filling him in on the days as they passed. She knew that one of these days she was going to have to disconnect that phone line but she wasn’t ready for it yet. She certainly didn’t want to forget the sound of Scott’s voice, even if it was only a brief outgoing message when she called.

But this time a year ago, Stella was a wreck, in denial, determined to believe what she knew was not possible. She was in an upswing! She wasn’t breaking down and crying every couple of hours, she was still set off by loud noises -- particularly the bangs and booms of cars backfiring and fireworks -- but she had taken to not falling silent where her deceased had been mentioned. Stella definitely couldn’t spend hours crying with Rigel needing her at every turn.

“I’m not ready to move on, not completely.” she spoke after a couple of minutes, letting Rigel pull on her fingers. “I think I started to make the motions though. Or at least I had my rebound.” Stella let out a sigh, shaking her head. “Would you be upset? Are you upset? That I slept with someone else. One of my friends.”

She didn't know what she was expecting, the ground to begin rumbling beneath her, the crash of thunder followed by lightning striking her down where she sat (missing Rigel of course, he was innocent in all of this). Instead, a gentle breeze lifted the loose hairs on her head and that put Stella at relative ease. She could take it as a sign that she was given the go ahead or she could take it as it were -- the differences in atmospheric pressure as pulled by the Coriolis Effect.

She liked the idea of it being a sign better. It sat better on her conscience that way. Stella fell silent, her train of thought moving from the current conversation with the gravestone. Rigel continued to pull at her fingers, eventually deciding that sticking one in his mouth was going to be more conducive to his time in Stella’s lap, coating her index finger in more drool than she ever thought imaginable. Stella stayed like that for some time, until Rigel had gotten tired of her finger and it had long since started to get pruney.

She wrapped Rigel back against her chest, securing the fabric and rising, letting out a small sigh. “We’ll talk later, I better get him home so he can nap properly. I’ll come back soon.”

x.

Closure was a funny thing. Stella never expected to find it, not with a reminder for the remainder of her life needing her at every turn. She had gotten lucky, she supposed. Rigel had more of her features than she expected and that made it easier. He didn’t remind her of her husband, he reminded her of just her son whose closest father figure was her own father. It was Finnegan but ever since they stopped talking, Rigel would need one that she knew she’d still talk to in a few years time when it began to get real rough. She didn’t know where she and Finnegan stood and she was afraid to find out if it wouldn’t work out in the end.

She had to be the bigger person.

Stella figured that she could use Rigel to get him to answer her but she didn’t want to put her son in the middle of it. It wasn’t going to be fair for any of them. She left him a message, asking if he’d come over one of the nights he was free so they could talk and air it out. She had to apologize, after all, it was her big mouth that had gotten her into this mess in the first place.

It was going to take some time and time hadn’t really been on Stella’s side in the recent past. She wasn’t going to push it though, if it took another year or so for everything to go back to resembling normal than she’d do her best to wait that year. But it was enough to make Stella laugh, she could find closure on one chapter of her life and another one was refusing to end. To wrap up, even if it was messy, she would take it. She needed as much closure as possible. It was just harder to get than she realized.

She didn’t expect him come over as soon as he did, in fact, Stella had missed his reply text while she was in the middle of giving Rigel his bath. It was when her phone rang that she stopped what she was doing to momentarily reach for the device, keeping one hand on the child who decided that splashing was going to be worth getting all family members in the room just as wet as he was. Shrieks of delight included as she fumbled with answering the phone call. Her face lit up at the sound of Finnegan’s voice and she shushed Rigel to no avail who made sent a tiny wave of lukewarm bathwater over the edge of the tub. She hung up shortly after -- “Rigel’s trying to give me a bath, we’ll talk in a bit.” and lifted her son out of the tub, blowing a raspberry against his neck.

Stella fidgeted with Rigel’s key ring as she waited anxiously for Finnegan to come in, pacing in front of the coffee table until he knocked, followed by the door opening and Tycho barking in greeting at the familiar intruder. Stella stopped in her tracks and hurriedly combed her hair back, still damp from the impromptu shower she had gotten. Instinctively, Stella moved to embrace Finnegan, as if she hadn’t been avoiding him after all this time and the fact that she received a hug in return, lifted a weight from her shoulders and Stella was able to visibly relax.