Chapter Text
Lance was a ready person. Like the kind of person who won't go anywhere without a full first-aid kit in his backpack. The kind of person who had a schedule with every single minute of his day written down on his fridge slate. The kind of person who had thought of any eventuality over the next ten years. Okay, maybe not every single eventuality. Well, he surely was not ready for a "not seen for a long time ex-girlfriend ringing at your door" scenario.
Since the morning, his day was perfectly calculated and going like a charm : morning routine and breakfast, an hour on Internet to take notes for his homework, phone call to his boss to make sure he was still working on the afternoon... Hunk had woken up at some point, without him really noticing. The big guy was well aware of his best friend's perfectionism and learned to deal with it on daily basis, so he tried very hard not to disturb his habits and therefore was out most of the time. So he headed to school and would not be back before six on the afternoon. Lance, for his part, was ready for a new, well-timered, wonderful day. It was common knowledge that Lance had serious self-esteem issues and having everything under control was the the only solution he found. And he was perfectly okay with that.
But someone up there (hello it's me) said that he wasn't okay. It was past noon and the boy was vaguely cooking, distracted by the phone across which his friend Coran was trying to give him directions for the recipe. Since Lance was rather certain that baking powder wasn't needed for crepes, he didn't pay much attention to the old man and most of all tried to not overthrow his dough. At the same moment, something - or more likely someone - rang at the door. The boy swore, put down bowl and phone and wipped his hands on the nearest towel to go open.
It was Matt. Lance blinked once, twice and a third time for good measure, but it was without a doubt his ex, with the largest and darkest rings under her eyes he had ever saw, ruffled hair and "end me" face, but still her.
"Hey, Lance."
The boy didn't move, being pretty sure he was just asleep and would fall from his bed eventually. But Matt cleared her throat and waved a hand in front of his face.
"Could you, hum... could you let me in ?"
Lance stepped backward and open wide the door without a word. Matt had a little sigh, turned around with a rustle from her yellowish dress to grab the handle of a stroller that he hadn't noticed until then and get into the flat. In the stroller was comfortably installed a tiny sleeping baby with the same light brown hair as Matt and a cloud of freckles spread on the face. Maybe a cousin she cared for, he assumed.
Matt already knew where the living room was located for coming here several times, but somehow seeing her settling in one of the couches was startling and felt wrong. Lance hadn't open the mouth yet, but anger started to bubble in his stomach : she was literally popping up out of nowhere, without a warning, after seventeen months without news. Sure, he had time to move on, but she had been his first love, his first time, his first girlfriend. Now he only felt anger and disappointment towards her and he didn't like that.
"Matt, what the actual heck--"
"Shhh," she said harshly as he raised his voice, "You'll wake her up."
"Matt, you..." he started to shouting-whispering, "You can't just one day ring to my door and expecting me not to be mad ! You disappeared overnight and no sign of life since ! What were you up to ?"
Matt's sight flew toward the baby for a second and Lance wondered once again where it came from. For what he knew, Matt didn't have any brother or sister, so it was certainly not a niece, but they looked alike enough to be related.
"I was kind of busy," she mumbled, looking more miserable than ever. He huffed and took a seat on Hunk's armchair : she was clearly here for something and he knew her well enough to be aware of her tendency to lengthen things, so better be comfortable. Matt's gaze was wandering on every single inch of the living room, as if she was trying to indentify any potential danger. Lance was losing patience.
"What do you want ?" he grunted between his teeth.
Once again, Matt's hazel eyes were on him and he felt a little bit over-agressive to press her so much. Just a little bit.
"I owe you some explainations, don't I ?"
"Yeah, I'd really like to ear 'em," he snapped.
"First of all, let me to introduce you to Katie."
She untied the baby -so it was Katie then- from the seat and cradled it in her arms, waking it kindly. Katie opened a tired eye and glared instantly at Lance, not very happy to wake up in the presence of a stranger. Lance waved at her, a frozen smirk on his face : they were both looking uncomfortable near to each other. Katie's eyes were sparkling with intelligence and angst, going from him to the young woman. She reminded Lance of his own youngest sister, Angela, with her air of imp ready to rush to the nearest sharp object, and he suddently understood the careful look Matt had a moment before.
"Do you want to hold her ?" Matt said, straightening the squirming baby who was trying to escape her grip to sit back into the stroller. Lance shook his head.
"No, thanks you very much."
"You should, it may be useful in life," she replied.
"Oh my God, Matt, I've like five nephews and three nieces, I know how to care for children !" he groaned with rolling eyes.
"Yeah... Sure."
Lance, as a proud guy, took it as a challenge and grabbed decisively Katie, which was almost succeeding in climbing back to her seat. As he settled her properly into his arms, she looked at him with shocked eyes and blurted a strangled, panicked noise. Lance's reflexes returned to full speed and he started to hum a stupid song which had been stuck in his head for the past three days in order to calm her. She slightly released her grip on his T-shirt's collar, even if she was still looking at him with a light apprehension in her eyes. He had to admit that she was a beautiful child, with pale freckled skin, hair slightly darker than Matt's, chubby cheeks, big glowing eyes, small and pinched mouth and the longest eyelashes he'd ever seen on a child. There was something very familiar in her lineaments, but he couldn't spot what exactly.
"I have to admit, she's really, really cute. Where does she come from ?"
"Me."
Lance nearly choked and stared at her, eyes wide, face blank. His mind was racing, trying to put things together : Katie went from Matt. Katie and Matt. Katie was Mathilde's daughter. And out of nothing a very important question, how old was Katie. But the question died between his throat and his tongue, and all he wanted to say was stuck in the back of his mouth. He felt like dying, choking on his own words.
"Wh- What, when ? Who..?" he said with the most strangled voice ever.
Matt was looking sad, and terribly tired, like she had been holding on something until then and suddently released all tension, her shoulders falling and her eyes closing for a second, her shaking hands gripping on her head.
"Seriously, you can't tell ? Look at her, just - Can't you see the similarities ?"
The world was breaking, everything was falling appart and his mind crashed somewhere on the floor. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. She couldn't possibly be doing this to him - Matt didn't have the right to do this to him.
"Are you trying to tell me that..?" he voice broke and he couldn't say it.
"Yeah. She's your daughter." she replied with a tiny, broken voice.
Katie started to cry.