He had never fantasized about going to bed so much, and he didn't even want the girl to join him, mostly because she was his daughter - still weird to think, he had a daughter - and also because if he could get into bed he was going to kiss his pillow and promise to never take sleep for granted ever again. Even including the next time he got so caught up in work he forgot about being tired until it hit him like a rock.
Maybe it was genetic. He held out a hope that it wasn't, because if she had his will as well as his eyes - he had never thought he would have been able to recognize them, but there they were, they were his eyes in someone else's face - this was going to end in futility anyways. "Earplugs," he said, with firmness that would be much more admirable if he wasn't too tired to be anything but tired. "She sleeps twenty hours a day. She has to stop soon."
Besides, he was fairly sure that's what the books all said; start the child sleeping through the night, even if she screamed. Hearing her scream like that, as if Doom had her in his clutches instead of Pepper, just made him want to scoop her into his own arms and hide her away from the world, making sure she was safe. That was all that mattered, that she was safe, and happy, and comfortable, and therefore not screaming down the roof because she was too tired to realize she should be sleeping. "We can try the lullaby again," he suggested. "Maybe she just really likes rock."