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By the time Monica was almost one, she had mastered the pronunciation of the infamous word “Mama.”
It had obviously brought great joy to Maria and she had immediately called Carol to give her the news. They had spent the following evening getting Monica to say “Mama” as often as possible, and tried to encourage her to say other words.
One day, about a month later, Carol entered Maria’s house as usual. Maria had just finished feeding Monica, and the second Monica saw Carol, she started reaching for Carol from her mom’s arms: “Tee! Tee!”
“She’s been saying that since last night, I have no idea what she means,” Maria explained as Carol put her keys on the kitchen table.
“Could she have inherited my love for tea?” the blonde asked, amused.
Maria sighed.
“No, I tried showing her tea, she didn’t seem satisfied.”
“Tee!” Monica proclaimed once more, still reaching for Carol.
“You wanna say hi to Auntie Carol, baby?”
“Tee.”
Realization finally dawned on them. “Is she saying..?” Carol started.
“I thing she is,” Maria said, grinning. She handed Monica to Carol.
“Hi there Lieutenant Trouble, how is it going?” Carol asked with a huge smile.
“Tee ka!”
“Yes that’s me, your Auntie Carol! What have you been up to today?”
And as Monica babbled – whether talking about her day or another very important matter – Carol took it all in, the domesticity, the love, her family. She caught Maria looking at her and couldn't help but smile again. She realized that she had finally found that sense of belonging she had been looking for for years. She realized she was home.
She’s awaken in the middle of the night by a tiny hand shaking hers. She blinks, realizing that Monica is standing near her.
“Whas goin' on Trouble?” Okay, she’s not completely awake yet.
“Auntie Carol? I had a nightmare” Monica whispers, sounding still a bit scared.
Hearing those words, Carol wills herself awake. She untangles herself gently from Maria, sits on the edge of the bed and opens her arms. “Come here.”
Monica sits on her lap, burrowing her head in Carol’s neck.
“Wanna tell me about it?” Carol asks, gently rubbing Monica’s back.
Monica shakes her head.
“You sure?”
After a while, Monica whispers: “You were gone." Carol’s hand stills.
“Gone? Where to?”
“I dunno. You just left. Mommie and me were alone.”
“Oh Trouble, I would never leave you or your mom,” Carols says, kissing Monica’s hair, “I love you both so much, how could I leave you?”
“Promise?”
How could she know then that she would leave them – certainly not by choice, but still breaking her promise?
“Yeah I promise.”
“Auntie Carol? Mom, it’s Auntie Carol!”
She’s still mostly Vers at this point, and she’s not sure how to react to the child who’s hugging her.
“I knew it, everyone said you were dead!”
She thinks she recognizes the kid, from the flashing memories Talos pulled out of her brain in his ship. And there’s a pull towards this child, as if her body remembers things better than her mind does.
“But we knew they were lying.”
And that smile… that smile warms her heart and she just knows that a piece of her heart has always belonged to that kid. Or rather, a piece of Carol’s heart.
And it must show, somehow, that she’s not Carol, because the child’s smile quickly disappears when Vers doesn’t return the hug.
“I’m not really who you think I am.”
Later, when the kid – Monica – shows her the pictures of Carol’s… of her life, Vers realizes that she’s not Carol, probably will never be again. But maybe she could try to be that person… because whoever she was, that Auntie Carol seemed pretty awesome.
Monica is the one who opens the door and lets her in – and despite her frequent visits, Carol is always surprised to notice that she’s gained a few centimeters. Monica’s almost as tall as her now, but Carol can still recall the day Maria and her took Monica home for the first time.
“Ma! Welcome back! I really need your help on my science project, meet me in half an hour in the kitchen!” She hugs Carol quickly, then passes by the kitchen door to yell “Mom! Ma’s here!” and sprints up to her room.
Maria exits the kitchen, a smile already firmly in space. “Hey you, we weren’t expecting you for a few days.” Carol is still staring at the stairs Monica took to go upstairs, flabbergasted.
“You okay there?” Maria asks, amused by her absence of reaction.
“Did she just… call me Ma?”
“Oh, yeah, she’s been doing that for a few weeks. She said that it didn’t make sense to call you Auntie.”
Carol blinks then looks at Maria like she’s lost her mind: “Why is that?”
The look Maria gives her is loving, if a little exasperated. “Carol, you were there when she was born. You helped me raise her for the 4 first years of her life and you’re one of the most important person in her life.”
“But –“
“And let’s be honest, if it hadn’t been dangerous for all of us back then, I would totally have encouraged her to call you Ma.”
Carol blinks rapidly. “You… you would have?”
“Of course, silly.” Maria pauses for a second, watching Carol. “Are you crying?”
Carol shakes her head. “That’s ridiculous, why would I be crying?” But the tears start falling down her face, and there’s no point in hiding anymore.
Maria cups her face, wiping the tears. “You were never just her god-mother, hadn’t you realized that?”
Carol shakes her head again. “Don’t make fun of me, I’m trying to savour the moment.”
Maria gives her a full five seconds, watching her lovingly, before calling out: “Monica? Come back here baby, you need to have a conversation with Carol.”
“In a minute!”
“Are you cutting our hellos short?” Carol asks, pretending to be offended.
“Well you’re the one who ignored me for our daughter,” Maria deadpans.
Carol’s ready to protest – though she knows it’s true – but she hears Monica heading for the stairs, and chooses to kiss Maria instead. Getting that ‘Welcome back’ kiss is probably the only reason why Carol still goes back in space regularly – she hates being away from her family that long.
“Hi,” she murmurs.
“Hi,” Maria says, slightly breathless.
“Mom, stop distracting Ma, I really need her help!” Carol feels Maria smile against her lips. Carol pecks her lips one more time.
“Duty calls,” she says in a low voice.
“Have fun with your daughter,” Maria says, winking, while Monica stomps at the entrance of the kitchen.
“Yes,” Monica says, rolling her eyes, “your daughter requires your assistance, now!”
Carol shares a look with Maria, and they both chuckle at the teen’s impatience.
“Lead the way, Trouble!”
And Carol follows Monica in the living-room, already knowing that she will never tire out of being called “Ma”. She likes the sound of that.