Who: Lina & Pete, with fussy baby Amelia What: A very sleepless Father's Day morning for Pete's first When: Asscrack of Dawn, Today Where: Firestarter Fortress Rating/Warnings: Relatively low, cute family feels Status: Complete!
Baby horses were able to run their very first day of life, as soon as they made their entrance into this godawful world. It was a sweet sentiment, whereas squishy human newborns gestated for about forty weeks, give or take - they were actually pushed out early, in the scheme of things, simply because if left to grow to truly the proper size, their heads would wreck mum’s birth canal. The funny things you learned, when you were a parent - Wisdom also learned that he was caring less and less about messes as time went on, and he’d come to accept that he was going to do some revolting things all in the name of parenthood.
Like constantly restocking burp rags, because newborns didn’t yet possess a fully developed valve between their esophagus and stomach - which meant vomit and goop, catapulted out sometimes rather than digestion occuring. Like, yes, sticking a finger up his daughter’s bum to relieve her constipation. It got the poop moving, so who was he to complain.
At any rate, Amelia was currently having one of those ‘fussy’ nights. She was crying a lot, couldn’t seem to settle, and he’d gotten so desperate he finally placed her in her infant car seat and set it atop the dryer, turning it on - funnily enough, the vibrations soothed her almost immediately. Apparently it reminded babies of that much simpler time in the womb, with all the comforting sounds of blood pulsing and whooshing, a place where they were snug and warm. He was about to fall asleep standing up, literally. Leaning against the wall, while the dryer hummed on and on.
Perhaps it was safe to move her?
Finally, finally, he gently eased the precious cargo from her seat, cradling the back of her head, and carrying her to the door of the laundry room. Five steps taken, two more to go...
WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Oh, Christ.
Yep. Christ. Amelia’s wails were blaring sirens through the house, though it hadn’t exactly woken up the redheaded mother – nope, Lina’s eyes were drowsily blinking ever since the first round of restless crying. Maybe it’d be wise to catch those several minutes of elusive sleep before the next wave, but she’d figured there wasn’t a point trying to reach for something they couldn’t get for a couple of consecutive hours. It’d only make her start wailing alongside their infant, too.
Guess it’s time to wake up, she thought with an internal sigh, and kicked the warmth of the blankets off. Her body was alright, getting better – she’d been casting minor recovery spells every couple days to lessen the discomfort, and let’s just say thank fuck for her fiance’s brilliance when it came to throwing together that aftercare basket and leave it at that.
“Okaaaaaaay, then.” Yaaaaaaaaaawn. “Let’s try something different?” To the rescue she came, whipping those fiery wavelets of hair into a ponytail, and she’d stolen one of the two t-shirts Pete owned to pair with a comfy set of sweatpants. “Ummm, unwrap the blanket, take off her pajamas?”
Teamwork, fuckers. If Pete wasn’t sleeping, neither was she - and that was because if the baby was crying at the top of her lungs, no one would have the luxury to conk out. Might as well work together and ease the little one.
“What’s the matter, button nose?” Pete asked the wailing baby, as if she could answer. He had many different nicknames for her - and indeed, she had a cute little nose that would one day become an English schnozz. It was especially cute when she was Exorcist-spewing all the milk and snot, ever, from that nose too. “Shh, shh.” He rocked her a little, and fuck it all, fuck sleep - that apparently wasn’t going to be happening tonight, he’d probably catch up on snoozing at work some other time. On a day when Orange County wasn’t gender-swapping its citizens or blowing up.
But alright, different tactic. Probably a good idea - that was what you had to do, embark on perilous missions of trial and error. “Take off her pyjamas, swaddle her perhaps?” Wisdom suggested, carrying Amelia to the nursery. Her bassinet was in her mum and dad’s room, and she slept in there as was standard practise at first - when she actually did sleep, that is.
Laying her down, he began the process of getting her out of her tiny sleepwear. “Nappy smells clean.” Yes, affirmative - and thank god for it.
If there was one thing Lina knew she’d never get sick of was sight of their little person in his arms - she was so bitty, and despite his anxieties of fatherhood, Pete was really a natural. Kinda funny how such a mundane sight could make her not care about losing sleep. They came to terms that they’d be zombies for the first couple years anyway, and in the end, this made it worth it.
“No swaddling,” she vetoed, which did work, but she had another idea. Arms crossed, she leaned against the doorframe of the nursery - neutral, soft colors with a splash of something bright here and there, but it carried the subtle scent of baby powder and magic thanks to the modifications. An interesting combo. “I’m thinking skin to skin; just get her in her diapers, hold her bare-armed and bare-chested.” Babies, especially the premature sort (Amelia fit into a weird spectrum of arriving early, but also late enough to where there wouldn’t be any dangerous development issues) craved contact, craved warmth.
And Pete Wisdom was a walking furnace.
But there was some science behind it according to the internet? It helped fathers bond with their babies, and Lina already had enough skin to skin bonding when the kid was latched onto her boob. “If she starts going for your nipple though…” Welp, that was a sign to hand her over.
Wisdom chortled, because what? But, ah, he supposed going for a nipple that wasn’t going to provide sustenance would indeed be a sign that the baby was hungry. So duly noted. “Bare-chested, then,” he agreed, and that meant taking off the other t-shirt he owned (granted, he’d bought a pack of them and had given in to the idea that he’d need to do it - they just got dirty so quickly).
But the shirt came off and Amelia, now in only her newborn-sized nappy (it was probably the smallest size available?), was cradled on his shoulder - holding her to him was simple; he had one arm slung beneath her, the other hand covered her entire back portion, she was so small. Pete could probably even pick her up and hold her in one hand too. “Don’t make me sing, Amelia, I’m not really that good at it,” he warned, jiggling her just a bit - babies got that in the womb too, they must like it. Things were so much cosier in that waterbed.
She hadn’t stopped crying all the way yet, but she became a little quieter at least. Now she was just snuffling like one of Leliana’s ugly hairless pig-bunnies. “How’s that?”
“Theeeere she goes,” Lina quietly cooed, finding the easing of screams promising - she even closed the distance between the three of them, her face close to the month old’s (because it’d been a month and approximately four days, mommy kept count) to kiss that miniature fist. “Keep that up, we might have her down for more than hour.”
Guh. That’d be fucking fantastic, wouldn’t it? Her fingers gently stroked that raven fuzz of hair, a sign that Amelia would probably take more after her father - bets were being taken for the eye color, though. Blue, red, something else? Lina’s were a honey-brown before they’d changed, so who knew. “We can bring her to bed if you want,” she whispered, the next kiss to the curve of her fiance’s neck. “If she gets fussy again, I’ll take her. I think the best thing I can do for Father’s Day is give you some sleep.”
He deserved it - he’d been awesome about getting up at night and tending to her even with work on the plate, no complaints there.
Yes, they’d officially crossed over to the Dark Side - the side where even an hour of sleep was looked at like a golden opportunity. Wisdom didn’t mind though, and he knew it wasn’t due to let up anytime soon - he felt similarly, this was all worth it and then some. “Oh, right, it’s Father’s Day, isn’t it? Or...soon?” Wisdom’s brow furrowed. Honestly, he’d lost track - everything was a sleep deprived blur; Lina was a lot better at keeping up with the calendar.
But sleep as a gift, well, he wouldn’t complain. That was really all he needed. To bed with them, and now that Amelia was beginning to ease off into ‘drowsy sleepy face’ territory, Pete would also use the moment to relax in bed with his fiancee. He settled on the mattress, choosing to lie there with the small creature on his chest - perhaps the rise and fall would help lull her too, and the sound of his heartbeat. Being a walking furnace didn’t hurt either, he supposed.
“This bed feels grand,” he sighed - and it did, especially after spending the whole night pacing with a screaming infant in his arms.
“It’s now,” she snickered, grinning tiredly, because of course she kept track - it was his first, and not to mention her own father was in the vicinity to celebrate. “Technically speaking.” It was alright, though, she understood the delirium and loss of time; it was all passing in a blur. And to think, pregnancy felt like it had lasted for a thousand goddamn years,
But to bed they went, the cushy comfort of the mattress and sheets, and all the several pillows they had to buy throughout aforementioned pregnancy just so the roly poly that she’d been could even get comfortable. Guess used curl up at the food of the bed with them, but after the arrival of the boisterous thing she hid from view. A lot. Unless she heard the can of wet food opening.
Lina dragged the blankets back over and in the spirit of snuggling, she nestled up against Pete too. Trapped by his two girls, one snoozing on his chest and the other around his arm - he’d have to find a way to cope somehow. “You know,” the sorceress whispered, gently dragging her fingertips up and down Amelia’s soft back. “You were worrying for no reason, when this all started. You’re nailing the dad thing.”
Being snuggled up with his two favourite girls was also the only Father’s Day gift he needed - it seemed a good way to celebrate. That, and a half hour of uninterrupted sleep - just a cat nap, Amelia, please? Wisdom chuckled a little, shifting just the barest bit to kiss Lina on the top of her head. “I was literally worried until the very first moment I saw her. Then it all sort of evaporated.”
He wasn’t sure why that was. Perhaps because he just felt this connection - like a whole different type of unconditional love. Pete knew he would literally give his life for Amelia - there was very little he wouldn’t do for her. Now she, his two favourite girls, they came first - always.
“You’re doing quite well too, Red,” he pointed out. “I knew you would. You’re good at looking after people.” Himself included - she’d been the one to get him to quit smoking, after all.
Caring for a baby was no damn easy task, so she’d cling to the compliment the next time Amelia relentlessly wailed without a cure. For the most part she really wasn’t consistently fussy but, fuck, when she did pitch a fit, you’d think the world around her was collapsing. “Only a select few,” Lina snorted – she wasn’t going to bother with certain hermits anymore, but that was life. Now her main focus was this, the little family they’d unexpectedly made for themselves, and gods help whatever force that threatened them.
Up close, in the dimness of the room, she could make out the faintest little smile from the baby - it was sweet, and they’d be seeing those more frequently as time passed on, but she also knew what that meant for their beloved shitter.
Gas. A lot of the times their sleepy smiles came from being on the precipice of releasing a smelly whisper from her butt.
“She’s smiling,” she whispered, nose adoringly scrunched. “Expect something stinky soon, but, by the way - I did get you something.” Maybe it wasn’t some kind of cliche heartwarming baby-related item, like a fossilized sample of their child’s turd to reminisce over throughout the year, though it was probably something he’d get a kick out of. “You want it now, while you’re still mostly awake?”
Ah, if only the adorable baby smiles meant that their little darling was truly happy. But no, it really just meant that she was about to soil her nappy and leave her proud father a very distinct present for this special day. “I’ll wait for the stench to waft its way to my nostrils,” Wisdom decided, and he was quite attuned to Amelia’s ‘I shat myself’ cry, he liked to think. It just sounded a different way.
His hand carefully smoothed the downy black fuzz on that head which resembled a peach - the precious little thing was asleep, from what Pete could tell, though it was somewhat creepy the way newborns sort of slept with their eyes half open sometimes. The things he discovered, while embarking on this adventure. “Mostly awake,” he confirmed, around a yawn, “That’d be good, certainly. Father’s Day is a new thing for me.” Not just because he was a first-time father, but also because they just didn’t really do this sort of thing in the UK. At least not to the extent the States did, but then again, the observation was started here in this country anyway.
“Okay, so,” she began, the grin across her face the definition of devious, and she carefully reached over to her nightstand drawer. The small lamp was turned on just for sight, and she rummaged briefly before pulling out an envelope - inside were two tickets. “Remember that performance we never really got to see because I thought it was a good idea to fondle your junk in public?” Thérèse Raquin, something like that, but she was more concerned about giving him a proper handjob in the darkness of the crowded theatre.
Because priorities, really, and it was a good night for them - even if it ended up in flames and a prostitute running off in nine-inch heels at the mere sight of them.
Settling back next to him, Lina opened up the envelope and held up two tickets. “The Performing Arts Center is rebuilt from your orgasm-induced accident, by the way, and they’re doing a show here in August.” Which was a good time frame, with Amelia being about three months old and a little sturdier than her current infant state. “And guess who nailed us private balcony seating.”
Parents needed to replenish their sanity too, and it’d give them a couple hours to unwind, cut loose, play dress up without the threat of vomit on expensive clothes. Even drink a bit.
What a pleasant surprise! Really, it was, because the actual show they’d missed had promised to be entertaining - apparently what happened when the Firestarters attempted a night of culture and snooty champagne flutes was that everything literally went up in flames, but it had been a good night for them regardless. Sort of cemented the relationship, in an odd way? Wisdom never claimed to be traditional, and Red really wasn’t either.
“Good, I’m glad the centre was rebuilt - from the ashes arises a phoenix,” he quipped, reaching over, one arm free to wrap around Lina and draw her nearer for a kiss or two in gratitude. He didn’t want to jostle the finally quieted baby demon, so he did it carefully. “Sounds nice, though, especially the balcony seating. I’m looking forward to it already, even if you decide to get handsy - thank you, love.”
Having those precious few hours to clean themselves up and relax would be a godsend by that point - and also the pleasant thing about it was that they had a plethora of sitters to choose from. The quirky GILFs, or one of the godparents, would gladly oblige.
Tradition was for the birds. Their own way of doing things had worked out pretty well for them from the very beginning. It was perfect, and explosive, and them. “There’s no if about the handsy part, Petey-bird,” she smirked, those one or two careful kisses returned. No going MIA for August, either, since it was nearing that anniversary of being sucked up into the void to spend some quality time with the Lord of Nightmares - and weirdly enough, this new version of dreams was nearing to a version of that event around the same time she’d dreamt it last year. Life’s a funny bitch.
Lina set those tickets aside again, and she’d definitely be marking off the days to that night. Then she dove under that arm again to get squished up against his side, back to the puddle of physical warmth that was always a few notches higher in temperature thanks to his natural heat - a perk Amelia would definitely benefit from. Something about being snug and warm did work when it came to soothing them, especially since she hadn’t been quite done baking in the human oven. “This time we’ve got the hell fingers more controlled now, hmm?”
Ahh, man. That was fucking funny. And he did predict she’d never let him live it down, either. The Brit knew her all too well. It’d be nice to go back to the start of them, though, and the Waffle House in which he asked them to be exclusive.
Go to a theatre for champagne and fancy hors d'oeuvres, end up fleeing fire trucks and in a Waffle House with tired waitresses who had been on their feet for a million hours and sub-par black coffee. Seemed like it was meant to be, however. Wisdom had no complaints about how everything turned out. “Yes, my tricks are well under control,” he smirked, and it had been embarrassing having to learn to ride the proverbial bike again - as a mutant who worked hard to train others on how to best utilise their talents, he sort of didn’t like feeling as if he didn’t have a grasp on his own.
Luckily, that passed with some work and determination. Lina also better not be disappearing into the abyss again - he wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive lightning striking the same place twice.
“Feel free to ravish me as you see fit - uh oh,” Pete cut himself off, as Amelia squirmed and it suddenly felt smooshy on her bum. “Seems like the gas turned into full-out chocolate biscuits.”
Chocolate biscuits. Really? “Are you sure it’s not just -” Nope, not gas, definitely poop, it’d even caused the little one to squirm and pitifully whine between the states of sleep and consciousness. Talks of fucking around in public were to be continued now that Amelia shat herself, and Lina stirred from the cuddle-puddle to sit up and take a peek into that diaper.
“What the hell kind of thing is coming out of my boobs that is making her crap like this?” Rhetorical question. Don’t get research nerd on her, Wisdom, she knew he probably had the answer. “Alright, alright, hand her over. I’ll take this shift,” she sighed with a little smile, carefully peeling the writhing and soon-to-be noisy mini-person from the heat of her father’s skin. Come to mommy, you pooping demon.
Some kind of semblance of sleep was promised to her fiance, so she’d do her best to oblige. Finicky baby in her arms making sounds of distress because waaaaaaaaah I pooped myself someone wipe my butt, she leaned in to drop a kiss against his snobby British nose. “Speaking of that night, though, I’ll tell you about how the Lady of the Night ended up in the Underworld with Tiddles when you’re more conscious. Get some sleep, hot stuff.”
Actually, Wisdom wasn’t quite as versed on the nuances of breast milk - all he knew was that he had a right to gloat about putting nipple butter into the aftercare basket, see? See? It must be uncomfortable for nursing mum’s, when a hungry shark frequently latched on with the single-minded goal to get their sustenance, so he wanted to do what he could. Getting a little sleep sounded fantastic though, and as soon as Lina had taken Amelia, he rolled over and basically flopped in the blankets. Soon, he’d be out like a light.
“Prostitutes, the Underworld, Tiddles - “ Honestly, gangsters gave themselves the worst fucking names, “...can hardly wait to hear the sordid tale,” he trailed off, but it sounded garbled and zzzzzzzzz. Yep, that ‘soon’ turned into ‘ten seconds later.’