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Little One

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She was exhausted.

Why did she have to get pregnant again? She groaned, trying to fall back asleep after getting up for the sixth time that night to feed the little mons-no, poor thing. She whined against her pillow. She could never call her baby like that. He had no fault. Babies were like that. They needed food and to be soothed from cramps, and they needed to get changed.

Oh, no, she was going to dream about changing diapers and wake up in a startle. She groaned and turned around to her side, folding her hands under her head, and blinked her bleary eyes.

She was surprised to find Theo’s wonderful blue eyes staring back at her. She blinked again, trying to focus just she could be sure it wasn’t a dream.

“Y/N,” he said softly under his breath, raising a hand to her and stroking her arm affectionately, “I’m gonna see the baby next time, alright?”

There was a teary, broken tone in the word “baby.” She imagined he didn’t believe in it, not totally - not just yet. Theo was probably still feeling like he was dreaming the whole ordeal over. How could he have a son after all this time? She could imagine him thinking.

Either way, she was too tired to argue so she just nodded tiredly, blinking for a longer time than normal. She was so, so tired that she would let Theo do whatever he wanted, whatever he chose - and thank Goodness, he was reliable. Deep down, he was as caring as his brother.

He smiled a little at her.

“I will take care of our baby, Hondje,” he whispered.

 


 

2 hours later.

The baby was crying again. His son. Theo swallowed. How could he…? It was just so hard for him to believe it all was real. It had been months of this prospect and still, he wasn’t ready to accept it, that he was indeed a dad with a kid, that he deserved to be a dad at all.

He raised from the bed slowly, but without stopping. Theo couldn’t let Y/N wake up from the child’s cries once more - not if he could let her rest for a little longer. Theo had told her he would do it this time, so that’s what he was gonna do.

He walked to his child’s room and pushed the ajar door opened. His kid was crying his lungs out in the far crib, closer but still a little away from the wide window on the other side. Theo had wanted the kid to be able to bathe in the sunlight but without letting him suffer any consequence of a chill wind or a too-hot day.

Theo smiled, rolling his eyes. That kid made him feel so sentimental.

Theo strode to the crib and held up the little baby in his arms. He was so tiny and yet so loud and willful. Theo smirked, lulling the kid in his arms slowly, soothingly.

“Promise me it isn’t hunger and you will let your poor mother sleep, little one,” he murmured, softly and indulgent, poking gently on the kid’s so small nose. Theo would never let his patience run out on his kid. His son. At least not until he started acting like a brat much like himself. He snorted.

This kid, his son, the fruit of his love with Y/N. He felt so lightly gleeful for the existence of this little child, with barely any of his honey hair, a loud potent voice, and a real, instinctive understanding of his own wishes.

Theo snorted again.

What could this little thing want more than to be satisfied, to not feel pain? Why would he care about talent and be jealous or felt insecure about himself?

Theo leaned down and gave a soft, tender kiss at the kid’s warm little head. The child seemed to be on the path to stop crying and start sleeping again. That was good.

Theo started humming a song Vincent used to sing to him. Vincent had taken care of him in a way too, it wasn’t just the other way around; although Theo seemed to have some kind of “talent” to care for others, or at least for Vincent.

He hoped he was able to take good care of his son, too. Even better if he could so. Theo had always thought it hadn’t been enough, what he had done when he needed to take care of his brother. Vincent had shut down anyway.

Theo sighed, taking himself closer to the window while the kid seemed to prepare himself to sleep, a small thumb prodding his as small little lips. The sky was not as beautiful in the modern times, but sometimes it looked much better than normal - it seemed like the stars would have won the battle that night, against pollution and decay.

He sighed again. He was still happy nevertheless.

Then, he heard a rustle and watched a shadow walking down the hall.

“Oh, no,” Theo slowly made his way to the crib and lay his little treasure inside, paying attention to not let his son’s head fall fast on the bedding and walked to the door.

Theo looked back at the kid, sleeping now.

He was fine, wasn’t he? Ah, the anxiety of being a real parent, with a real toddler making you feel like everything can be too much, even happiness.

Theo sighed one more time before waiting for Y/N behind the toilet’s door.

Y/N got out not long after and she raised a weary eyebrow at him.

“What?” she asked.

Theo crossed his arms. And after what looked like a staring contest which they both knew she couldn’t win, he opened his mouth:

“I told you to rest.”

Y/N shook her head in disbelief.

“But I needed to use the restroom.”

“I don’t care,” was his response.

Until they started laughing together at the ridiculousness of that.

“Let me take you back, then, hondje,” he said, this time softer and with a small smile and a glint in his eyes.

Y/N accepted her husband’s arm and they walked together to their bedroom. Just making a small pause to sneak a look at the kid’s bedroom and smile to themselves. Their hands finding each other’s and squeezing the other simultaneously. It was worth it. Despite everything. Every bad night. They, Theo, she, and their little son, they were worth it.