rock-a-bye, baby
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“What are we watching?”
“One of my favorites,” is all Baran says.
Trinity glances at the screen in time to see Baran click on her selection. It’s the 1979 Muppet Movie.
Something in Trinity says she should crack a joke, make things light again after her not-so-subtle freak out. Another part says she should protest at the kid’s movie, the open wound of her secret blanket still stinging. What she settles on, instead, is just warmth. A quiet warmth that builds in her chest as the women on either side of her settle in for the long haul the moment the movie starts.
Slowly, Trinity’s shoulders relax. Her breathing comes easier, and her pulse slows. She watches Kermit the Frog sing in a swamp, and all those pesky little thoughts float away like leaves on a breeze. Humming along to the Rainbow Connection, she pulls her blanket tighter around herself.
(OR: For reasons Trinity would rather not get into—trauma, mostly—Mother's Day usually sucks. When schedules align, Cassie McKay and Baran Al-Hashimi have something to say about that.)
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- Part 1 of rock-a-bye, baby
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“You’re okay, baby,” Cassie murmurs into the side of her head. “You don’t have to be big anymore, honey. Mommy’s here now.”
The stress of the day—all the patients she couldn’t save, the phantom blood still tacky on her skin, everything she could have done better during the mass cas—it all just fades away. Tucks behind the blanket of warmth and littleness Cassie so easily coaxes over her.
She sniffles. Mumbles a little, “Need to be big. ‘S date night.”
“Aw, Trin,” Cassie—Mommy—says, huffing a fond laugh into her hair, her hand squeezing the back of her neck as they still sway softly. “I think it counts as morning at this point, baby. You can be as little as you want with Mama and Mommy, okay?”
(or: date night gets crashed by a mass casualty event, but they get to celebrate anyway in the early hours of the morning)
Series
- Part 2 of rock-a-bye, baby