Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chris wakes and the feeling from that experience in Boreth returns, he’s trapped, he can only speak in yes and no. This is his future, and his friends, his senior staff, all mingle around.
“I’m so glad we decided to do this, I missed you all,” La’An seems brighter in this future too.
Una walks in, smiling, a toddler trailing behind.
“Astra,” she helps the kid forward, Una picks a crumb off of the infant’s shoulder and gives it a comforting brush. She bends down, pealing the kid’s arms off from around her legs as she does so, “why don’t you go say hello to your Uncle Chris!”
It’s most certainly Number One, still as tall and as tough as ever, but there is a gentleness and an everyday practicality that permeates her actions with the child. Una is a mother.
The child toddles over on stubby legs toward him. His chair beeps and Christine clarifies for the others, “that’s a yes, see the light.” Fresh toddler hands tap the side of his chair, all she can reach, and she looks back over at Una expectantly. He lifts a hand a few centimetres up before it drops from disuse.
“Yes, that’s your Uncle Chris from the pictures,” Una reassures her.
“She’s grown so big! Haven’t you!” Christine exclaims, bright eyed, kneeling down to greet the girl who lights up at the compliment.
“I don’t want to take over the evening,” Una says warily.
“Nonsense, Captain,” La’An reassures her, “I might see her all the time but for everyone else she’s a novelty.”
“Let me guess, La’An here is teaching our little niece to fight bad guys?” Erica posits. “Are you gonna fight the big scary Klingons?”
“She’s two,” La’An says flatly. A beat. “Auntie La’an’s self defense program starts at four.”
“For now she might be appreciable to certain rudimentary lessons in logic,” Spock says. “Normally I would not suggest this for non-Vulcan children, however, she is half Illyrian and seems to have her mother’s mind.”
“Are you volunteering to babysit, Spock?” Una teases.
“I do not know when my duties will next allow me time, especially given different ship schedules, however, if you require someone to watch the child I will check my duty schedule and communicate back to you.”
“How much language has she exhibited yet?” Nyota asks curiously, breaking the humorous tension.
“Well,” Una sits down on the couch and looks over, her daughter bounds forward climbing up onto her lap. “Someone,” she says pointedly, “is usually very talkative, but has decided to be silent tonight.” She runs her hand through her daughter’s hair, the girl bristles.
“I wanted the book,” Astra says gruffly.
“The book?” Nyota questions.
“The book doctor M’Benga gave her last time he visited,” Una explains.
“And Uncle Joseph could read it!”
“I could read what?” Joseph questions, returning from the bathroom.
“The Elysian Kingdom book you gave her,” Una says.
“Oh,” he looks sad for a moment, “I’m glad you liked it, Astra.”
“You know your uncle Joseph helped save you when you were a little tiny thing,” Christine says.
“That’s right, you weren’t even born yet,” Una follows up with, looking over at Joseph with gratitude.

Chris sits there, watching his now former crewmates laugh and smile and tell stories. No-one seems to know that he isn’t their Chris. Una fusses over the toddler all evening, picking peas from her daughter’s hair when they inadvertently end up there from her picking at her plate.
“You need to eat your dinner, it’s good for you,” Una tells Astra.
“I’m not hungry.” She crosses her arms.
“Proper nutrition is important for a growing child,” Spock asserts.
“You will be hungry when we get home. I know you,” Una follows it up with.
The girl just shakes her head.
“You’re so stubborn little Chin-Riley, you know,” Christine teases, “I think you get that from your mother.”
Una laughs dryly, “no, she gets that from Chris.” Her eyes dart over to him, checking in like they so often do. Una’s nose scrunches as she teases her daughter, “Such a little girl-scout until you decide to be a troublemaker, just like him, got those little boy-scout genes.”
And this doesn’t seem to be new information for anyone else, but it is for him, thrown into this future, because somehow that child both is and isn’t his.

Chapter Text

He’s even less in control now as sees himself wile away the days as a mere witness to the world before being whisked away to Talos by Spock. Vina isn’t a terrible companion, but she isn’t who he yearns for, who he would choose to spend his days with. Even Vina as real as she is can’t live up to the temptation after a while. It’s easy to slip when you have to invent something to live for.

He sees the lives he chooses to live in on Talos, fueled by a never ending Talosian fantasy and his own desperation and imagination.

Co-parenting Astra.

Cooking Astra’s birthday cakes, a warm vanilla scent filling the kitchen. Adding strawberries on top.

Chasing Astra around a park, pulling her and Una into a hug when they all inevitably fall onto the grass. The picnic they have after. His mom’s chicken tuna sandwiches.

Blocking Astra as a toddler from running out of his quarters, her cackling like it’s a game.

Seating Astra up on the carousel, breathing a sigh of relief when she makes her first trip round with a big toothy smile on her face.

Rocking Astra on his knee as he sits in the captain’s chair, pointing out constellations on the viewscreen, her eyes lighting up with each explanation.

Showing Astra around the house in Montana. Making memories on the porch.

Bringing Astra to Mojave, a story of his childhood around every corner.

Walking Astra up to his childhood church. Walking away with the knowledge that it will not be forced on her.

Drying Astra off after a bubble bath, her hands still smacking at the leftover bubbles enthusiastically.

Carrying Astra around on his shoulders, her clinging to him, small, warm, and inquisitive.

Cuddling Astra close as they watch an old movie, her questions peppered throughout.

Wrapping Astra in a cozy blanket and a hug when she quietly confesses a fear of the dark.

Singing Astra to sleep when Una goes on a multi-day mission, grateful when she returns to take over that particular parental duty.

Heaving Astra up onto her first horse. The sounds of her and Una edging him on as they trot beside him in the paddock.

Cradling Astra through a skinned knee when she falls. Una rushing up but him being the only one Astra trusts to use the dermal regenerator. Kissing it better despite himself.

Hearing Astra call him Daddy, bounding forward so he can give her a hug.

Planning Astra’s birthday party, the first one she can remember.

Scolding Astra when she bounces in excitedly and wakes him and Una before the sun has even risen.

Describing Astra and all her virtues to long lost friends.

Administering Astra some warm chicken soup when she gets a cold. Watching her glow faintly as she gets better, recovering in half the time it would take a human.

Guiding Astra through her first corn maze, the mid-western sun beating down upon them.

Pretending Astra isn’t clearly visible underneath the curtain when they play hide and seek, tutting around the house yelling her name while her faint giggles emanate.

Packing Astra’s first camping bag. Just the two of them trekking into the mountains. Finding the note Una slipped in, ‘bedtime at eight or else’.

Warming Astra up by the campfire, telling ghost stories as she stares up at him with those wide inquisitive eyes.

Broadening Astra’s horizons with real stories about the worlds he’s been to, the things he’s seen. Bearing through the fiftieth why of the day with an amused glance at Una.

Guarding Astra and her treasure when they play pirates, the little girl demanding to be treated like a queen.

Brushing Astra’s hair for her first day of school. Her mother’s long dark locks cascading down her back before he braids them just like her auntie La’An.

Teaching Astra how to trail ride. The company of the horses and his daughter bringing him more peace than he’s had in a long time.

Fetching Astra’s favourite stuffed toy when she leaves it behind on a sleepover.

Propping Astra up on his shoulders, even though she’s getting too old for this, just so she can see a little further.

Correcting Astra’s homework until she exclaims that she’s outgrown it.

Sparking Astra’s interest in science with a family trip to the science museum.

Filling Astra a lunchbox of home-cooked meals despite her insistence that the school replicators are fine. Una offering to go in and upgrade them if Astra wants. Their grumpy daughter telling them to butt out.

Spotting Astra in her school play, watching proudly and cheering from the audience. Her waving at him from the stage, him waving back.

Dressing Astra in a special new outfit for Una’s promotion to Commodore.

Bringing Astra her science project when she forgets it. Stress induced tears fading as he shows up.

Repainting Astra’s bedroom her new favourite colour. Una rolling her eyes as it changes once more.

Tasting Astra’s first attempts at cooking. Pretending to like them, teasing Una about her poker face.

Gifting Astra her first pet, a scruffy puppy which takes an instant liking to Una, snuggling up to only her on cold Montana nights.

Talking Astra into surprising Una for her birthday. A shared father-daughter secret, borne out of love. Una’s eyes lighting up the way only hers and Astra’s do when they’re happy or excited.

Playing Astra’s favourite games, her clever mind already set on discovering the best strategies to beat both him and Una.

Fuelling Astra with home cooked meals at the start of every day.

Excusing Astra from school for a day during the semester the kids study the eugenics wars. Him and Una sitting her down to explain the Illyrian history she needs to know.

Telling Astra about his mother and father and all the other Pikes that have come before. How angry he was that his father turned everything into an argument —not the kind of father he wanted to be. Una chiming in that they’re a family of civilised debate, and only when you want to. Astra proudly agreeing, hugging him.

Allowing Astra to transport into the city on her own for the first time, her excited spiel at the end of the day as she recites her happenings to him as they cook dinner together.

Heaping Astra and Una’s favourite hot sauce on their burgers for the first time without them asking, though with much reluctance.

Sheltering Astra from the dark and evil parts of the world for as long as he can.

Scolding Astra for stealing Una’s jewellery. Sitting her down to finally pass on his own mother’s instead.

Planting Astra’s favourite variant of strawberries. Tending to them carefully.

Greeting Astra’s friends, wondering how their home became the central location for teenage congregation.

Discovering Astra’s affinity for piloting. Trying to quell the fear that overtakes him every time she speeds away.

Spoiling Astra silly with a new horse she names Penelope.

Providing Astra a home where she is safe, supported, where she has community.

Holding Astra when she and Una truly fight for the first time, bitter, serious and unrevocable words spoken. Explaining how remarkable her mother is, why she should apologise, forgive her.

Racing Astra in the simulator, Una declaring she gets to take on the winner.

Berating Astra for staying out too late, that him and Una were worried.

Trusting Astra despite his worries, loving her too much to ever want to keep her from the world.

Wiping Astra’s tears away when she gets her heart broken. It’s all going to be alright, you’ll see.

Fitting Astra in her first flight suit, making his own modifications until it is just what she needs.

Coaching Astra’s high school flight team.

Fixing Astra’s very stolen shuttle before returning it to her school with a hastily written note about Starfleet business.

Teasing Astra about her affinity for musicals, same as her mother. Astra explaining the difference between Gilbert and Sullivan, and Sondheim.

Finding Astra’s favourite book in first edition as a present.

Embarrassing Astra loudly at her graduation, Una by his side.

Training Astra in all the flight manoeuvres he knows. Passing her on to her mother who smiles smugly when he runs out.

Testing Astra before her academy early entrance exam, knowing there really is nothing to worry about.

Moving Astra in to Starfleet academy. Her begging him not to embarrass her again.

Cheering Astra on loudly while she races in the top squadron.

Providing Astra with advice when she stumbles, perfectionism rearing.

Waving Astra away on her first posting.

Hoping Astra will still visit them, she does.

Shipping Astra care packages to the other side of the quadrant. Crossing their fingers she receives them.

Delivering Astra’s twenty-first birthday cake, handmade, in person.

Welcoming Astra’s first partner home. Lightly threatening them for his and Una’s amusement.

Visiting Astra’s starship, rubbing shoulders with her captain as he and Una try not to be too intimidating to her colleagues.

Questioning Astra’s partner on their intentions, threats not so light with the reminder that her parents are in Starfleet.

Calling Astra when she makes Lieutenant, pride flowing through every congratulatory word.

Dancing Astra in circles at their father-daughter dance.

Telling Astra how much he loves her.

Imagining, Astra.

Bargaining for any way to make this real.

Repeat.

Chapter Text

Chris woke with a start, sweat dripping down his forehead. Months had passed since the incident where he saw the future once more, and every so often it would creep up on him in a dream, or rather a nightmare as evidenced by his racing heart. The vast majority of it were the many years spent with the imaginary version of the child on Talos, not unpleasant, just unsettling. He looked at the clock, o’six-hundred, no point in sleeping anymore. He prepared for the day before quieting his mind by cutting vegetables for dinner tonight. A captain’s table was just what he needed, a purpose, something to busy himself with.

The day consisted of a run of the mill charting mission and he soon found himself back in his quarters and hosting. Una was there as always, swiftly swiping her favourites off of plates before anyone else had the chance to spot them, while he pretended not to notice. He did notice she had mostly put together a table of younger crew this week. A fresh faced young Ensign he thought might give herself a panic attack with how she moved so stiffly and cautiously.

“At ease, Ensign, don’t strain anything,” he reassured her.

A newly promoted Lieutenant, constantly reaching to fix how his newly adorned sleeve lay. A nurse recently transferred from the Milwaukee. A cadet, finishing up a week with La’An.

“A very green table this week, Number One,” Chris noted as they cleared up, the room having settled into a comfortable quiet, just the two of them.

“What can I say, I thought they would do better having one another,” she said.

“And it meant you got to sneak out all the strawberry squares before they left the kitchen.”

“That was a secondary benefit. What do you think about Cadet Greenhorn?”

He wiped the bench down, reviewing his interactions from the night. “She seemed almost chipper for having been through La’An’s security drills, resilient, I think she has potential.”

“I agree, I’ll make a note of it.”

He cleaned and she tucked the plates away until there was nothing left to do.

“Before I leave there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Una told Chris.

He motioned towards his sofa for them to take a seat, “please.”

“I have a favour to ask of you and it’s a big one so don’t feel like you need to say yes or even answer right away,” Una started.

“Alright,” he acquiesced, motioning for her to continue.

“I’ve been thinking about where my life is going after Enterprise, after these last six months aboard. The Valiant. It’s a prototype so we’ll be running relatively safe missions, there’s a good chance they’ll let civilians stay aboard. I’ll be Captain, so I can make my own schedule. I want a baby.” Even she hadn’t expected herself to be so blunt.

“Wow,” he said. Forcing thoughts of the child in those all so vivid dreams down.

“I wasn’t going to have kids,” she explained, “but now that I’ve been able to live openly as an Illyrian for the past few years, I’m finding more and more things I want to pass on. Part of being Illyrian is to be part of the cycle of life, to have children, plus there’s a strong drive in all of us on a biological level. That felt like such an impossible thing to reconcile even a few years ago so I suppressed it, even though that was painful,” she confessed. “I wasn’t living as an Illyrian so being a part of that didn’t seem possible or even as important. It does now.”

Una had the Illyrian equivalent of ‘baby fever’ Chris quietly concluded.

She took a nervous sip of water and continued. “I’m not in a relationship, I can’t seek out a donor through a medical setting, as that would be a violation of laws surrounding mixing Illyrian and non-Illyrian genetics. This is where we get to the favour.”

He could put the pieces together. He tightened his jaw to distract himself from the thoughts of a now familiar bouncing toddler in his mind.

“I feel so guilty asking, you could get arrested and I wouldn’t if I had anyone else, I promise. You’re my closest and oldest friend, you’re physically healthy, could I please use your sperm,” she said carefully.

“Me?” He seemed confronted, cautious.

“Yes.”

“I’m a bit surprised, Una. you have exes I know for a fact would be willing to contribute to… the project.” He couldn’t say it. He grasped for an alternative to present.

“I don’t want them to assume a re-commencement of our relationship, some I don’t want to contact at all, they’re exes for a reason, Chris. You’re my best friend, you I can handle. Besides, for some there are practical difficulties to consider. Vulcan DNA is difficult to hybridise for one. That would involve illegal medical intervention. I know for a fact there were half-human half-Illyrians conceived accidentally back home.”

“So you need a human?” He questioned. The alternatives were dwindling.

“I can’t use an Illyrian, so yes.”

“Would you be genetically modifying the unborn child?” He posed.

She shook her head. “Too much of a risk. Part of me wishes I could, the adaptions that make vacuum exposure less dangerous for one since we’ll be living on a ship… but I can’t risk trying to find an Illyrian doctor, let alone losing my command if discovered. They’ll be safer in the federation unmodified and as long as they’re naturally inherited, my modifications can’t be used as a basis for prosecution.” Her research shone through.

He sighed in relief. He’d been worried about the potential for another drawn out trial, Una in danger, a child in danger.

“I know it’s a huge ask,” she reiterated.

“How many human exes do you have again?” He asked, a last resort.

“Just Ramsey,” she said.

“Absolutely not, he’s the most- you are not having his kid,” Pike said firmly, remembering that his opinions of the man lay somewhere between sanctimonious asshole and arrogant robot. He had never understood what Una had seen in that man.

“Exactly my thinking,” she reassured.

He was her only option, he thought again. He really should have trusted her that that was the case, this was Una who knew everything before he’d needed to ask. Still, he heard the laugh of the child in his future memory, he was not their father and it burned in his mind more than the memory of the radiation. If his child existed, he would want to parent them. Be called dad, teach them the family recipes, to ride horses. But that could never be. He had the accident, forever looming, forever pertinent. He could never be that kind of parent even if the child existed.

“What would be my relationship?” He questioned.

“No parental obligations on your part, you can if you want, you would still be a part of our lives regardless, of course.”

“My, uh, accident,” he said. “I’ll be rendered sterile by the radiation. I thought about freezing samples but who would want to conceive and raise the child of someone who can’t even help? And it wouldn’t be fair.”

She seemed to want to fight him on the assertion but only said, “You don’t have to be their dad, Chris, no obligations. I know how much it hurt when you had to grapple with Vadia Nine.”

They rarely spoke about Vadia Nine anymore. But it wasn’t that time with Marie, the daughter that never really existed, almost six years beforehand, that had him hesitating. It was something he also wasn’t sure was real, but that was far more recent. If only she knew how much every version of him longed to be their child’s father, to do this in reality. Her eyes were so bright, so hopeful, so quintessentially Una, the Una he could never tear a dream away from.

“If this is what you want, I want you to have it. I’d be happy to contribute to project baby,” he concluded. He pondered the child in his dream… premonition? “You be Mom and I’ll be Uncle Chris, it wouldn’t be fair to give them a dad only to not be able to be there when the accident comes.”

And she could still find someone to more capably fill that role, he thought. If Una wanted, she could find a partner, could find another parent for the child to do all the things that parents did; he would be the Uncle who changed beyond recognition when they were a mere baby, barely remembered, and that would be less painful, less of a burden, less of a loss. Una would be busy enough by then, he thought, she didn’t need the obligation of taking care of him for the sake of the child, of explaining why he wasn’t like every other dad.

“You have no idea how grateful I am,” Una said earnestly, she breathed a sigh of relief. Despite how much she disagreed with his conclusions, she wasn’t going to push his involvement, she was simply grateful.

“I have a condition,” he said, remembering what he saw. “Go see Joseph, get some advice. I know you’re pretty sure carrying a half-human baby is safe for you, but I’d like some reassurance.”

“It’s not fair to drag him in beforehand, he could be implicated in its conception,” she countered.

“He’s done far more actually illegal things regarding Illyrians than answer a few hypothetical questions,” Chris reminded her.

“True,” she acquiesced.

“Just to cover all our bases, what would we tell people?” He asked.

“We have a bit over six months left on Enterprise, no-one has to know your part. All they’ll know is that I’m pregnant, and I’m entitled to medical privacy as to who the father is. Illyrian pregnancies are only five months, and by the time I’m due we’ll be back on Earth where I’ll have to wait out the completion of the new ship anyway.”

She had finessed the whole thing, of course she had, brilliant Number One.

“So you have what a month or two to conceive?” He questioned. “Is that enough?”

She blushed slightly before admitting, “without the use of controlling medications or implants Illyrians are all incredibly fertile, unlike humans in which it is variable. When my colony joined the federation... There were consequences, human precautions often weren’t used thoroughly enough, hence the unexpected children with humans I mentioned.”

A child, so quickly. Una a mother possibly even before they returned to Earth.

Una appeared to be deep in thought before blurting out, “I’m ovulating at the end of next week.”

“That’s soon,” was all he could say.

“I thought I could leave a series of sample containers here and you could drop them off in my stasis unit before your shift, I’ll add you to my door. Starting Tuesday, three donations, each with a day between them to stop your sperm count from dropping. If you could refrain from-”

“Sounds like a plan,” he interrupted, willing her to stop talking.