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shakespeareanwannabe · 4 years

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Strange Comforts

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x OC

Summary: A sequel to ‘Protective Instincts’ and a prequel to ‘Best Laid Plans’ (I wish I could link them here but I’m still figuring that stuff out). With T-minus 10 weeks to go before the baby arrives, Pope discovers that it’s the little things in life that bring the most comfort. *This one’s not based off clarke’s wonderful headcanons, but it’s set in the same universe so that’s where the credit goes!*

Warnings: Pregnancy fic, swearing, references to smut, references PTSD, references to therapy

A/N: Hi everyone! This is part three of who-knows-how-many of my Dad!Pope series. I’m still looking for a series title, and I’m trying to figure out how to create a masterlist for this so I can put them in order for y’all. I hope you enjoy! I loved reading your comments for the last two! Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future installments!

***

“…and, unless someone else wants to share, I think we’ll wrap up for today,” the kind-eyed therapist addressed the group of veterans, shooting a small glance towards Pope out of the corner of his eye.

True to his word, Santiago had been attending group therapy sessions for the last six months, his first session taking place exactly a week after Bex had told him the good news. Will had highly recommended this therapist, having gone to see him himself when his fiancée had left him, and hoped he could shed some light on Pope’s issues so that he wouldn’t walk out on his pregnant girlfriend next time things got hard.

And Pope had been attending the sessions. Listening to what other veterans said, the issues they were going through, it helped. Sure, both Frankie and Will had been fairly vocal about the problems they ran into while trying to adjust to civilian life, and Pope knew that Tom had had massive difficulties when they forced him to retire, and Benny’s issues were plain to see even if he didn’t talk about them, but those were his friends, his brothers, his family. They had all seen the same shit, so, clearly, they would have similar issues. But hearing random strangers, Marines, and Rangers, Navy and Military and Air Force men and women speak about seeing IEDs everywhere, and drinking to forget, and panicking at the sight of blood was…strangely comforting. The only problem was that Pope could never bring himself to speak.

He wanted to. God knew he wanted to. He needed to be okay. For Bex and the baby, for Frankie and Charlie and Mateo, for Benny and Will, for Molly and the girls, and, most importantly, for himself. So he could stop feeling like a major fuck up in every aspect of his life, so he could feel deserving of the life he had inexplicably been blessed with. But whenever he would try to open his mouth, he froze. How could he possibly talk about the shit he had done in the name of freedom? Was there a way to talk about his instincts shutting his emotions down without coming across as a cold-hearted bastard? Why did his tongue stop working whenever he tried to talk about how deathly afraid he was of screwing up this baby’s life, Bex’s life, their life together as a family? How deathly afraid he was that he had already screwed up Frankie’s, Will’s, and Benny’s lives? How he had nightmares of when Tom had died?

Santiago used to think he was a brave man, but now he felt like a coward. He could face down armed sicarios and terrorists without batting an eye, but he couldn’t talk about his emotions to save his family. It was complete and utter bullshit in his mind.

“Alright everyone, I’ll see you next week,” the therapist dismissed the group and Pope shot to his feet, beelining towards the coffee station.

Everyone else stood around talking, chatting about their daily lives or the weather or whatever, but Pope focused on mixing his coffee. He used to take it black, but then Bex started teasing him that only psychopaths took their coffee black, so he started mixing milk and sugar in instead. He liked it, but he needed it to be perfect.

“You actually drink this swill?” the therapist came up behind him and chuckled.

Pope cracked a smile. “I’ve had worse.”

“Haven’t we all,” he murmured. “Question Mark.”

Santiago shook his hand. “Pope.”

“You’re Ironhead’s friend, right?” Pope nodded. “Damn…he’s told me some of the crap you guys have been through. Sounds like holy hell.”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Shit, man. No wonder you don’t talk during these meetings.”

Pope felt himself flush. “I mean…you know…”

“Hey, it’s fine. This is a no pressure situation. You just had me curious is all. Either you get people who don’t stop talking, or people who never talk in these sessions. But you…you always look like you want to talk but think better of it.”

Pope shrugged. “It’s like you said. Holy hell. Got used to not talking about the bad stuff.”

“So, what changed?”

Pope smiled softly, his eyes taking on a far-off look. “My girl’s pregnant.”

“Congratulations, man,” Question Mark slapped him on the shoulder.

“Thanks…” Pope shook his head slowly, sadly. “I almost screwed it up. Hell, I’m half convinced that I did, and this is all a dream. But when she told me…”

Question Mark was already nodding. “All of your training went haywire? Started imagining the worst?”

Pope cocked his eyebrow grimly. “Basically.”

The therapist nodded understandingly. “I get that. Same thing happened to me when my wife got pregnant with our third. Despite the other two being great kids, something about my last tour made me think that I’d screw the pooch with the new one. Checked myself into a hotel for a few days and drank myself silly until my brother-in-law showed up and told me that my kids were asking about me. That sobered me up pretty quick.”

Pope grinned grimly. “It was my buddy Catfish for me. Called me and reamed me out, and if Ironhead has told you anything about Fish, you know that he’s not the type at all. But it shook me enough to get my ass back to my house and beg for her forgiveness.”

“But you still sometimes think it’s all a dream?”

“I always thought guys like me don’t get the happy ending.” Pope sipped his coffee and shrugged. “But I’ll take it and run with it. She’s the best thing in my life. I’m not gonna let her down again.”

Question Mark smiled and dug into his pocket, pulling out first his wallet, then his card from his wallet. “Listen, Pope. I know how it can feel trying to talk to a room full of strangers. It sucks sometimes. If you ever want to chat, just one on one, give me a call. I’d be happy to help.”

Pope sucked in a deep breath and took the card. “Yeah, man. That would be great. Thank you.”

“No worries, man. Just, do me a favour?” Pope nodded. “Remember that you deserve this, okay?”

With a final clap on the shoulder, Question Mark moved away and began chatting with another member of the group.

Pope guzzled down the rest of his coffee and threw out the cup, heading home after a successful session.

***

Bex giggled to herself at the soft sounds of cursing and arguing emanating from the spare bedroom as she stirred the pitcher of lemonade.

Frankie, Benny and Will had come over to help Pope put together the furniture for the nursery and, based on the echoes she was hearing, it was not going particularly well. She had abandoned her rocking chair in favour of making the team refreshments after Benny had let loose a string of impressive swear words in two different languages. At approximately 30 weeks pregnant, laughing as hard as she did while listening to Ben swear himself blue in the face just made her have to pee, so she dismissed herself knowing that if she didn’t she would have to endure a lifetime of teasing.

“Just a sec!” she called out as the doorbell rang.

Slow and steady footsteps descended the stairs as a call of “I got it, babe!” echoed down the hall. Rebecca came around the corner with her tray of lemonade and potato chips as Pope handed over a few crisp twenty-dollar bills to the pizza delivery guy.

“Thanks man, you have a good day,” he smiled as he closed the door.

“Mmm, what’d you get?” she inhaled deeply. She’d gotten pretty lucky with the cravings so far, but she would not deny that pizza sounded pretty damn good.

“Got us a meat lovers, got you a pepperoni and pineapple since I know you’ve been on a sweet and salty kick lately.” Pope opened the smaller box to reveal the steaming, cheesy pizza and Bex felt her mouth begin to water.

“Have I told you today how much I love you?” she asked, placing her tray of snacks on top of the pizza boxes Pope was holding out to her.

He smirked at her, his eyes drifting up and down her body slowly. “You told me several times this morning, but I’ll never stop you from saying it again.”

Rebecca felt herself flush at the memory. Those second trimester hormones had hit her hard and seemed to be lasting a good long while, and Pope was certainly not complaining. His girl was stunning. She was always stunning to him, but that primal part of his brain told him that she was even more stunning when she had a belly full of his baby. Her bump was prominent, her tits were bigger and more sensitive, her skin was glowing, and that alpha male voice inside his brain crowed every time he woke up to her beautiful face and growing belly that it was all because of him. He had knocked her up and, thank God, she had decided that she loved him enough to want to raise a family with him. She was achy and uncomfortable, but she loved him and wanted his kid, and that meant more to him than he could ever say. Luckily, with the influx of hormones the past few months, he had been able to show her instead.

He watched as she slowly climbed the stairs, taking care to stay a few steps behind her just in case.

“How’s it going up here anyway?”

Pope groaned. “I don’t get it, baby. I can field strip any gun you put in my hands blindfolded. All of us can. How the fuck is this stuff beating us?”

Bex giggled softly as she entered the nursery and absorbed the scene in front of her. What she wouldn’t give for her phone right now so she could take a picture. Benny sat in the middle of the floor, looking like he was about to cry; crib pieces scattered around him. Will was leaning against the wall with a tired hand over his eyes, a half-assembled dresser beside him. Frankie was sitting in her abandoned rocking chair, cap pulled low over his eyes. He looked like he could be asleep, if only his leg wasn’t bouncing up and down anxiously.

“Soups on, fellas,” Pope announced, prompting the team to abandon their projects for paper plates piled high with pizza slices and tall glasses of lemonade.

Bex smiled fondly at her family as Pope, Benny and Will sat against the far wall underneath the bay window, the three men examining the assembly directions for the crib like they were preparing for a siege.

Frankie held out his hand to offer her the rocking chair but she shook her head. “If I sit in that thing any longer, I feel like I’m gonna turn into a grandmother instead of a mom.”

Frankie cracked a small smile. “Fair enough…” he scanned the room quickly before meeting her eyes again. “Do you want me to go grab a chair from the kitchen?”

Again, she shook her head. “The floor is good, Frankie.”

“You sure? I can—”

“As long as you promise to help me up when I inevitably need to pee, I’m positive,” she chuckled.

“You got it, kid,” Frankie held her hands to help her gently lower herself onto the hardwood floor before throwing himself down beside her. “How ya feeling?”

Bex shrugged as she bit into her deliciously sweet and salty slice of pizza. “You know, I’m actually alright. I know I’ve gotten pretty lucky, but I thought this whole pregnancy thing would be a lot tougher.”

Frankie nodded kindly as he chewed on his own slice. “I remember how Charlie was when she was pregnant with Mateo,” he reminisced. “Couldn’t sleep more than ten minutes at a time, constantly had to pee, had to wear these ugly compression socks. She handled it like a champ for the first 30 or so weeks, but by the time he was finally ready to make his entrance, we were both ready for her not to be pregnant anymore.”

“Yeah, she mentioned that,” she murmured. When Frankie had raced over to calm her down after Pope had left, one of the first things he said was that he and Charlie would be there for them, no matter what. And they had been. Charlie in particular had been Bex’s lifeline. She had been so kind and understanding, helping Bex get set up with an OB/GYN, lending her pregnancy and parenting books, and just letting her bitch and cry whenever she needed a female shoulder to cry on. “She said she got to a point where she would’ve given anything to just get Mateo out.”

Frankie nodded. “Oh yeah,” he sighed. “The week before he was born, she was not sleeping. Her emotions were all over the place, she wasn’t hungry, she couldn’t sit still, and she would get angry at me for the littlest things. It got to the point where I didn’t recognize her anymore, you know? Like, where did the woman I love go?”

Bex reached over and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “That must’ve been tough.”

Frankie shrugged. “Like I said, she handled it like a champ. And I sure as shit wasn’t about to complain when she was in labor for the better part of three days.”

Bex whistled lowly. “Three days…Jesus…”

“I’m sure it won’t be that way for you,” he backtracked quickly, playing with the back of his cap as he ducked his head. “I dunno the statistics or anything but…”

“Hey, hey, Frankie, chill. It’s okay.” She pulled his hand away from his hat and ran her hand up and down his arm. “You feeling okay, Frankie? You seem…on edge.”

Frankie looked across the room at his brothers, deeply entrenched in the assembly directions, before sighing. “She’s pregnant again,” he whispered.

A bright smile crossed her face. “What? Oh my god, congratulations!” She reached out and wrapped her arms as best she could around his shoulders.

“Thanks…” he sighed.

“Do you…did you not want another baby?” she asked, confused at his dismal attitude. Frankie had been the one to talk Pope off the cliff, telling him how great fatherhood could be. And it was clear through his interactions with Mateo that he was an amazing father. He was one of those dads who flourished under the responsibilities of parenthood, who saw taking care of their child as a joy and a privilege, not as a job or as babysitting. If there was one thing Rebecca knew for sure, it was that Francisco Morales was a family man through and through, so she was a little surprised at the dread in her friend’s eyes. She had expected Frankie to be more…enthusiastic about having a second baby.

“Of course, I do, Bex, I just…” Frankie groaned, doffing his cap for a moment to run a stressed hand through his hair before redonning it. “I’m making jack shit right now at work, and Mateo is almost three, and the pregnancy was so rough on Charlie last time…I just…I can’t let my family down.”

Charlie shuffled herself closer and wrapped her arm around Frankie, leaning her cheek on his shoulder. “You won’t…” she murmured softly. “Yeah, this kid was unexpected but you and I both know your wife. She wouldn’t be having a second kid if she didn’t want one. Plus, you both know what to expect now. Hopefully she’ll have an easier time this go around, but you also know the signs and what kinds of questions to ask. And yeah, Mateo is young, but that’s okay. You guys can start teaching him responsibility early and, if they both end up being too much, call Benny to take Mateo.” Frankie cocked his eyebrow and Bex laughed. “Well, I was gonna say call Santi, but we’re gonna be a little busy ourselves. Benny’s energy can match a three-year-old easily though.” Frankie chuckled and wrapped his arm around his best friend’s girl. “As for money,” Bex shrugged. “I know Santi could use some help managing the security firm. He wanted you to partner with him anyway, and he’s still holding out hope that you’ll join him, so why not?”

Frankie nodded slowly. “I could help him out a couple of days a week and still teach flying lessons. Yeah, that could work. I’ll talk with him and see what he says.”

Bex chuckled as she shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not gonna be much of a conversation, Frankie, trust me. He’s been hoping you’ll take him up on his offer. Don’t tell him I told you, but he’s missed working with you.”

Frankie smiled softly as he watched Pope grab Benny in a headlock while Will shook his head slowly. “Yeah, I missed him too.”

Bex shifted again and Frankie stood, gently helping her stand, recognizing the signs immediately. The two watched the MMA fighter and the security firm director wrestle on the floor for a minute before Will was able to separate them.

Bex turned to Frankie and smiled. “If you really missed him, can you do me a favour?”

“Anything for you, kid,” he smiled back at her.

“Stop fucking around and help them build the damn furniture please. I know you put together all of Mateo’s furniture on your own, so please, put them out of their misery.”

Frankie’s loud bark of laughter startled everyone. He wrapped his arm around Bex and gave her a quick squeeze. “Sure thing, kid. Hey, idiotas! Let’s get moving. We want this stuff ready before the baby’s first birthday, okay?”

***

Pope sighed contentedly as the golden rays of the setting sun illuminated the dust particles dancing in the air. These moments were quickly turning into his favourite nightly ritual.

The radio droned lowly as he sat in bed, dressed in a pair of shorts, with Bex sitting reclined against his chest. He had just finished applying coco butter to her skin, and now his hands were resting gently on her belly, waiting for their kid to make their presence known.

Bex took a deep breath, allowing the air to escape through her lips as she cuddled further down into bed, resting her head just above her boyfriend’s heart. She loved these moments too, when it was just the two of them. No museum breathing down her neck, no art classes to teach, no security emergencies calling him away from her. Just the two of them, bonding with the baby that was nestled safely within her.

Sometimes, Santiago would talk to the baby when they sat like this. He’d tell stories about his childhood, about their relationship, about the kid’s future aunts and uncles. Sometimes, he would play classical music on his phone and direct the speaker towards her belly. Sometimes, he would talk to her, sharing his thoughts and fears, tell her about the things that he wanted to do with their kid when they were old enough. Most of the time, he would just hold her in silence and wait for the kid to kick or roll inside of her so he could feel it.

“The nursery looks really nice, babe,” she mumbled drowsily, wincing slightly as her skin bulged out against Pope’s palm, the outline of a tiny foot appearing for a brief second.

“That’s all you, sweetheart,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple as he soothed his hands up and down her swollen stomach. “The Hundred Acre Woods theme is stunning.”

Originally, Rebecca had wanted a jungle theme for the nursery, but Pope had borderline begged her to do something else, literally anything else, that wouldn’t remind him of crouching in the Colombian jungles next to Tom the day before everything went to shit. So, he hadn’t complained when she announced that she was going to Disney-fy the kid’s room with a mural of the Hundred Acre Woods and all of Christopher Robin’s friends.

“I made it pretty, you made it functional,” she yawned, shifting slightly to lie on her side, her left arm wrapping around his side as she nuzzled into his chest.

Pope snorted. “Yeah, once you convinced Frankie to stop being a prick.”

Under Frankie’s direction, all of the furniture was put together in less than an hour. The solid oak crib, dresser/changing table, shelving unit and rocking chair pulled the room together nicely, and the white bassinet sat in the corner of their bedroom, waiting to be put to use.

Rebecca smiled sleepily. “Not my fault you three didn’t notice that the one dad in the group was sitting around twiddling his thumbs.”

Pope grinned down at her. “We make a pretty good team, huh baby?”

She lifted her droopy eyes to him for a moment and smiled brightly at him. “Forever and always, my love.” She ran a gentle hand over her belly and sighed happily. “You’re stuck with me now.”

It suddenly struck Santiago how badly he wanted that to be true. What wouldn’t he give to wake up next to this beautiful woman every day? To be allowed to love her and spend as much time in her presence as possible? To raise their child together and be a family? To grow old with her by his side?

He ghosted his hand down her side and gently picked up her left hand, running his thumb over the knuckle of her ring finger as she drifted off to sleep.

“Not yet I’m not, mi amor,” he whispered. “But I want to be. If you’ll have me.”

He gently shifted them down the mattress, curling up behind her and resting his hands lovingly on her belly as he settled in to sleep, taking comfort in the knowledge that everyone he loved was safe in his arms that night.

Tags list (open): @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha

#santiago pope garcia x oc #santiago pope garcia #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #fanfiction #oscar issac #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #dad!pope

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ss-trashboat · 2 years

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5, 12, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 22, 27, 29, 30 ~ (for the artist asks!)

5. What’s your favorite thing to draw? people definitely, big lean towards bois right now. i just really love drawing muscles and anatomy and the like. we don't have the name of "trashboat" for nothing lol

12. Is it okay for people to ask you about your process? absolutely! i don't know how much i could explain it, but i'm always game to try! so yeah anyone please feel free to ask away if you're curious about anything ~

15. How long does an average piece take you to complete? oof this is so hard for me to answer, cause i never sit right down and do something in one go. it mostly depends on how much time i have and how focused/inspired i am to finish something. i take a long time i will say that tho lol

16. Do you draw more today than you did in the past, or do you draw less? it really depends on how far in the past we mean. like during school/college i drew a fuckton so less now compared to then. but comparing to last year i feel like i've done a lot more this year. definitely blaming on my refound love for wrasslin as i've been doing a lot of fan art lately and oc sketches

18. What are you currently trying to improve on? perspectives is the main thing currently, which is why i'm trying out different views and poses lately, but also definitely backgrounds. whether it's scenery or just something to give it a little more personality

19. What is the most difficult thing for you to draw? scenery, animals, and backgrounds are the main. for people it's legs and feet

20. What is the easiest thing for you to draw? i don't really know. i don't really find anything easy honestly. everything can have some difficulty once in a while

22. Are you confident that you’re improving steadily? if you asked me this last year i would've laughed and said no. now tho? absolutely. especially with doing fan art lately of subjects i've drawn before (not recently but i did a redraw for a con art) it's showing a ton with improvements. and just. trying out new subjects and actually having them look like them is still holy shit to me. and me a few years back wouldn't have been able to do that. it's so surreal still but very much riding the high and looking forward to what we do next

27. For digital artists: how many layers does a typical piece require? so many layers LOL. there's always three: sketch, line, and the darker color backdrop so i can do lighter colors, but all in all it's usually around 25-40 layers depending on the piece, as i do every color block and shading separately

29. For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece? (Light sketch, colored lead, sketchpaper, etc) light sketch. just start with some lighter shapes to play around with features and then we head dive in. darken the sketch as i get confident it's working and go from there ~

30. What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist? oof. i don't really know. like, this is something i've always wanted to do. it's something i've always done. hell i went to college for this shit lol. but i always had big dreams with art, whether it's character design or illustrating or whatever. after my mom passed art hit the backburner with my depression. did a lot of things for other people, didn't really draw a whole lot for me. now i think a big part of the stride of this year is relearning to draw for me, and refinding my love of wrestling helped that. a lot of me lately has been "fuck responsibilities, i wanna draw babes" and i've done that. and lately, they've been incredible. it's been a boost to my confidence and then i share them like a silly and some babes have actually seen them. which is fucking surreal. i follow some other fan artists and they're doing such great things that where i'm at again it feels like this is possible, like maybe some dream can come true. and of course i've fallen into the hole of the boi sammy and his encouraging words in vlogs have made me want to do all the things cause i'll make you proud my emotional support boi. so i guess, short answer cause fuck i rambled, it's just. getting closer to my dreams inspires me to be a better artist. whether it be trying out new subjects or just drawing for me and refinding my confidence. and having faves actually see my art that helps a lot lol

artist asks ~

#nightmareantagonist #thank you so much for asking babe <33 #and letting me ramble some more

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