Chapter Text
Bobby hadn’t been this nervous since Brook’s birth four years ago. Though, he reasoned with himself, it was kind of the same thing. This anticipation of fatherhood. He was nervous, the same bit of excitement of I’m about to become a father- again! But it was edged with something else. An oozing sadness and anger, the more he had been told of what had happened at his in-laws the more he was convinced they were the worst sort of people. He had held it together. He had to, listening quietly as Marcy cried and raged over what her flesh and blood had done. But bobby was a first responder. He had taken calls to horrible scenes; he had declined getting EMT certified because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stomach being up close and personal to abuse cases. To hold the victim in his arms… he would hold them soon.
Marcy had emailed him photos and it damn near broke his heart to know what the kids had been put through. The photo was taken in a children’s hospital room, no white walls but instead fun pictures and color, though muted was on the walls. The kids in the bed looked so small. The hospital bed dwarfing them by miles. Danny, who was ten, now, was pale and thin, his head of honey brown curls gone and instead a thick beanie sat on his head. He was in a hospital gown, and while he looked tired, a large grin was stretched over his face. Next to him was Maddie, a small-pleased grin of her own as she looked at her brothers. She was wearing a soft looking sweater and jeans, her legs crisscrossed as she brushed long brown hair away from her face. Then, between them was a toddler, with chubby cheeks and golden curly hair. His face was turned away from the camera as he reached up trying to pat the golden star sticker that sat on Danny’s cheek. From the sheet of stickers discard on his lap, Bobby would assume the sticker had come from him. He had zoomed in, taking in his niece and nephews features, or as much as he could see of them. He had called her voice shaking when he noticed the edge of the toddler’s shirt was raised, showing off what should be a chubby baby belly but was instead a mess of purple and green bruises.
Shaking the thought away. Bobby tried to focus, tried to vanish the fear that they will only be making the situation worse somehow -away. Instead, he focused on getting himself ready. Brook was already in her summer dress, happily playing with her Barbies’ and her brother’s dinosaurs. Bobby had peeked his head in to see her, putting the burnet Barbie’s head into the t-rex’s mouth mumbling “nom, nom, nom.” He didn’t have any sister’s, but Marcy had caught her doing this more than once and hadn’t been concerned, so Bobby was going to say that was normal. Robbie was in his favorite overalls; with his fire truck t-shirt under it. He was sitting on the ground with his card game out, Pokie-man, something or other, all the kids were playing it and that meant Bobby had to sit through cartoons and trading cards.
Heading back to the master bedroom Bobby got out his button up and his Sunday slacks. A nice blue button up and dress slacks, hair neatly combed. He looked, he mused, like he was going to an interview. He had only works a handful of waiter jobs before he was old enough to apply to the fire academy but still. He felt like he was trying to sell himself, look how nice I can dress up, I too could be your father figure. He snorted at the thought. He was making sure he looked okay in the mirror when Robbie came in, his tiny face dropping in horror at the outfit. He had taken one look at his father and gone wide-eyed, looking panicked at his own choice of overalls and light up sneakers for the day. He had shrieked, upset, before stomping back to his room.
Bobby fought off his own giggles at the action, knowing his amusement would be seen as a terrible offense to the six-year-old. Brook meanwhile had peaked her head out at the commotion, looking confused before squinting at Bobby’s clothes with recognition.
“Do I have to put on my Sunday dress?” she demanded to know, “I like my strawberry dress.”
“You’re fine,” he assured with a kiss to her head, “It’s a grown up thing.”
She looked him up and down critically, before nodding and turning around to grab the stegosaurus.
“Jr,” he called out, knocking on the door gently, “You looked fine bud.”
“You’re in Sunday clothes,” he announced sharply, “I need to put Sunday clothes on to.”
He came out a second later in his Sunday church pants and the same red shirt he had been wearing underneath his overalls. He looked critically between them.
“Okay Daddy. We’re all good to go.”
He didn’t fight the grin that stretched across his face, the warmth that settled in his heart at the seriousness Robbie was trying to portray.
“Okay bud.” He agreed, “Do you want to bring anything for the car ride? Brook have you gone potty?”
Tiny feet ran in different directions in seconds.
Before long, Bobby was buckling Brook up into her car seat. Robbie climbed into the back, taking the window seat of the minivan Bobby had borrowed from Mike from B-shift.
“But Daddy, where’d you’re truck go?”
“Daddy needed to get a new car.” He explained softly, “The tuck didn’t have enough space, not for growing weeds like you two, let alone your cousins.”
He shut the door and jogged around the car, mentally preparing himself for the car drive to the airport and the necessary waiting that was about to happen.
“But Daddy,” Robbie said quietly from the back as they pulled out of the driveway, “What if they don’t like us?”
“Oh buddy. Mom said they can’t wait to meet you.”
“But-“
“It’ll be okay.”
“But what if you love them more than us.”
Bobby nearly crashed the car. Pulling over just down the street from their house, Bobby threw the car into park, twisting in his seat to try to catch both of his children’s’ eyes.
“Hey, that that will never happen. Love doesn’t work like that.” He explained softly, “Robbie do you remember what we told you when Brook was born? It’s okay if you don’t you were real little then.” He reassured, trying to catch his children’s’ eyes, “it’s like… it’s like a recipe.” He settled on after a moment, “Remember for your bake sale last month, when we didn’t make enough cookies? Do you remember what we did?”
“We added more flour.” Robbie said, nodding his head in thought.
“And chocolate chips!” Brook yelled with a cheer.
“Yes we did. We made more. Love is like that. It doesn’t go away, or break apart.”
“You just add more?”
“Yep, I’ll always love you, no matter how big you get or how far away you want to go. Nothing in the world will ever change that. Your cousins aren’t going to be taking away any of my love for you.”
“You’ll make more?”
“So much more, they’ll be too much and it might spill right out of me. We might need a whole new room just for it.”
He waited, watching Robbie think about the words. Brook seemed pacified, nodding with a smile on her face before going back to playing with the stuffed animal she had brought along for the car ride.
“It grows?” Robbie said hesitantly, “Like a flower?” he looked up then, meeting Bobby’s own gaze.
“Yes, just like a flower. Things will be a different, a new different while everyone gets use to each other, but we’re family and right now they need some help from us.”
“Okay.”
“Alright,” he said, letting his shoulder’s relax at the hesitant nod from his oldest, “Is that okay with you to Brook?”
“Yes Daddy.”
“Alright then.” Turning back around, he buckled himself back in and put the car in drive. “Off to see the wizard, I guess.”
“What wizard?”
“We’re seeing a wizard?!”
Entertaining two small children while you wait at the airport for a plane to land was… an experience. Bobby didn’t think he was bad with children, he rather thought he was pretty good with them, especially his own. However, there were only so many child-friendly fire-fighting stories he could tell before the two grew impatient. It didn’t help, he thought sourly, that they were in fact stuck in the car waiting and not allowed out into oncoming traffic to play like they kept trying to do.
“Please stop trying to open the car door,” he sighed for the sixth time, just to be ignored, thank god for child lock.
“Where’s mommy?” Brook asked for the seventh time in as many minutes. Her face turning red, as she got ready to scream, “I want mommy.”
“Mommy!” Robbie suddenly shouted, slamming his hand against the window.
And he was right. Walking over to them with a large suitcase cart was Marcy. Her hair was thrown up in a ponytail and she was wearing a hoodie over her jeans. She looked tired but had a small smile playing at her lips as she saw them. Next to her on her right was Maddie, so much bigger than the last time they had been invited for the holidays. She was already almost as tall as Marcy, with the same straight hair as Marcy but a dark burnet he knew she got from her dad. She looked…relieved, he’d realize later, listening to his wife tell him in hushed whispers on how they hoisted a whole new born baby off on their ten year old and left her scrambling and force to turn from sister to mother with no warning in-between. He’d promise, when he made his rounds to make sure all windows and doors were locked and all kids were safely tucked into bed, he’d stand in the hallway and promise into the night to anyone listening, he would let her be the child she should have been allowed to be. No ten year old should know how to change a diaper or burp a baby.
On Marcy’s left was Danny, the ten-year-old having been cleared to leave just a few days ago. He wore a white surgical mask for the crowds and a grey/blue beanie over his head. He looked a little better than the picture from the start of all this, the knowledge he had been put on a less aggressive treatment plan seemed to help. Some cynical and smug curled in his belly that Margaret had been pushing so hard, had been forcing more aggressive treatments had not helped. She had jumped so far to the extreme that Bobby could still hear the shaking in Marcy’s voice as she said Margaret was actively making him sicker. Bobby smiled and waved, watching his nephews eyes light up as he stumbled, trying to pull his hand from his sleeve to wave back without letting go of the tiny hand that was clutching onto his right hand. Nestled in-between his big brother and Marcy was the surprise nephew. Evan, just a year younger then Brook and so much smaller. He had a head of wild blond curls that fell into his face and when he looked up at his brother’s wave, Bobby saw the clearest set of blue eyes he’d ever seen. But just as quick as that thought came a deep burning anger made him throw the door open, rougher then he meant to, startling all the children.
He paused, seeing the flash of fear and apprehension on such a little face doing something to his heart. Evan turned, tucking his face into Danny’s side, hands latching onto clothes and holding tightly in fear. So, he turned quickly to gather Marcy in a hug.
“He has a bruise? Did you run into-“
Marcy laughed softly at his hurried whisper.
“Birthmark, sorry he always has his head tucked away, I guess I never sent you a clear photo?”
She didn’t lower her voice, letting the children hear her. Danny and Maddie laughed, the tension bleeding off of them. Bobby could have kicked himself; he had been trying to make a good first impression. Turning away from Marcy, he squatted down, offering Danny an easy grin before holding out his hand to the littlest Buckley.
“Hi there kid. I’m your Uncle Bobby.”
He offered, holding out his hand. Evan peeked out of his hiding spot, a long blue eye staring wide and fearful at him before it darted up to his brother’s face.
“It’s okay.” Danny whispered, voice so low Bobby wasn’t sure he’d have heard it if he wasn’t so close.
A hesitant tiny hand reach forward, grabbing one of his fingers and shaking it once up and down before it was snatched back to grab hold of his brother’s shirt. Smiling back as calmly as he could, he stood up.
“Best be on our way,” he settled on, reaching over to grab the luggage trolley from his wife, “I have some mac and cheese waiting on the stove for us.”