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It doesn’t feel the same - standing here in his uniform with his rucksack on his back - not when he knows no one’s keen eyes will find him in this busy airport and shower him with kisses. No one will wrap their arms around him and tell him how much they missed him.
He is eager to see him though. It doesn’t feel the same but he is eager.
The first thing he sees is the bundle in Eliza's arms. It's tiny. The tiniest two-month-old he has ever seen. Being the eldest of his siblings, he has seen a lot of newborns - plus the ones he had to put six feet under. He has been to too many funerals for his liking. He had thought the universe, or whatever it was, had enough from him. But as usual, he was wrong. The universe wasn't done.
He wants to burn his black suit.
He unhurriedly walks to his friend who is smiling at him. Her black hair is up in a bun, a gray scarf around her neck, and a golden nose pin glistens from across the place. She looks like a mother. Natural. She looks comfortable. But he can't really keep eye contact as his gaze keeps darting towards the white bundle.
"He fell asleep in the car," is the first thing Eliza says to John.
"Oh." he simply says, putting his bag down on the floor.
Eliza readjusts the baby in her arms and his face is fully visible to John. John stops breathing. He doesn’t have that moment where everything stops and all he can see is the baby and he is so full of pride and love and cries a little. No. He just realizes that he has stopped breathing. This is his baby. His to love, his to take care of, his responsibility. But why is he alone in this? This is not how they planned it.
John gently brushes his soft soft cheek with the back of his forefinger. His hand is rough against the new, tender skin. His palm is twice the size of his face. He stirs a little and shoves a tiny socked fist out of the blanket, but goes back to sleeping peacefully immediately.
"Do you want me to wake him?"
"No. Let him sleep. Don't want to fuck up his schedule."
Eliza makes a face. "Yeah, you might want to brush up on your language a little. You're a father now."
Am I? He just smiles. "Anyway, I'm here for two weeks. So we'll have a lot of time to bond."
Eliza looks at him with pity in her eyes. "John... have you thought of leaving? Philip needs you. Alex wouldn't-"
"No." He is quick to answer. Coldness spreads in his chest and freezes it. "I... ah..." He looks down at Philip,hiding his face from Eliza’s view. "I need this." Eliza nods as John holds Philip's tiny fist and rubs tenderly with his thumb. "Is it too much pressure on you? I can tell my father to..." He doesn't know what he can tell his father, seeing he isn’t very happy with his life choices. But he knows he wouldn't be refused.
"No, John, that's not what I meant. I love being with Philip. But he is not my baby, I may have carried him but he needs his fathers... father." John stops breathing again. "I mean... you know how babies get attached to the people who take care of them. How is he to know that you are his actual parent, not me?"
John just looks up at her and offers a smile. "Did you come here all by yourself?"
Eliza nods. Doesn’t protest.
"You didn't have to do that really."
"No, I wanted to. I wanted you to meet him as soon as possible. I know Alex would like that."
And for a second, just for a second, John lets himself imagine Alex in Eliza's place, holding the baby, kissing him and whispering how much he missed him, his big, round eyes damp with happy tears as he looks down at their son.
He looked away. He won't allow himself to be seen like that.
But then again, this wouldn’t have been the first time John would meet his son if Alex was here. He would have managed to come earlier somehow. Or at least he would try to.
But Alex isn't here. And John didn’t try.
"I'm sorry, John." A moment passes. "You want to hold him and head to the parking lot?"
Suddenly a baby is being pushed in his arms and he is scared.
"Mind the head."
Philip whines a little in protest as his head rests on John's arm and his other hand goes round to support his tiny figure. "He's not- he’s," John is scared.
"He's fine. You're doing fine." Eliza says. Her reassuring hand lingering on John's shoulder. Philips settles down again.
John can't take his eye off the baby. He feels like if he looks away for a second, he will lose grip and the baby will slip right through his arms. "He's so... small."
"Compared to you, yes." Eliza smiles. "Although, he is tiny compared to other babies his age. But the doctor says he is fine though."
A shaky chuckle leaves his mouth. He doesn't know why.
"Come on, let's go home." Eliza says, taking his bag.
He doesn't take his eyes off his son all the way to the parking lot. He doesn't trip. He has held a lot of babies in the twenty-eight years of his life, but this feeling is foreign.
Eliza takes Philip from him to put him on the baby car seat on the backseat of the car. "Can you put the bag in the truck please, John?"
John doesn't move from his spot. He is staring at the backseat.
Alex had moaned in the backseat once. It's not the same backseat though. Their seats were of leather and was uncomfortable for Alex's sweaty, naked back - made funny sounds as they rocked. That car is demolished now, lying somewhere as wasted tin, and that leather probably has specks of his husband's blood. So does some tiny clothes and socks with their price tags still on them.
I missed you... I missed you so bad... He had whined as John pounded.
John shivers. Still feels the heated touches on his back. Still sees the warm warm eyes staring back at him.
"John?" John comes back to reality. "Are you okay?"
He looks down at Eliza. His eyes feel damp. But he hasn't been crying. "I'm fine. Sorry. Tired."
"Well, you're dead on your feet." says Eliza as she puts the bag in the trunk herself and goes to the driver’s seat.
John keeps looking back at the backseat.
"He's not going to wake up any time soon. Are you sure you don't want me to wake him?"
"Yes."
They get home in twenty minutes. At Eliza's apartment. It's better this way.
"I'm going to put him in bed, ok?"
John hesitates. "Can I come?"
Eliza looks at him. That look again. "Of course, John. You don't need to ask."
John nods and follows Eliza to the nursery. It is painted yellow and stuffed with too many gifts, toys of all sorts. A set of minions plushies lined up on the shelf on a wall. A photo in a beautiful frame sat beside it. A photo of John and Alex. The Hudson in the background. Alex's arms wrapped around John's middle and John's around Alex's shoulder, both grinning uncontrollably and looking at the camera. A photo from two years ago.
A turtle plush sat on the shelf below. He knows that toy. Alex showed it to him over Skype when he bought it for Philip.
"Do you want to put him down?"
"I... no, I'm gonna watch."
Eliza chuckles. "Okay, you watch so you can do it tomorrow." Eliza gives him the white blanket and puts Philip down in the wooden crib. He whines again a little but goes back to sleep again. Eliza looks at John and raises her eyebrows, and for a second John is confused. Then he looks at the white blanket in his hands. He tucks the teeny baby in. He is soft.
"He looks so much like Alex." This is the first time he mentioned him and he is scared.
Eliza frowns at him. "No, John, he looks like you. Everybody is saying that. He looks so much like you it’s almost funny."
Eliza is not wrong though. He does have the lighter shade of brown hair (it’s too short to know if it is going to curl up or not) and everything. But why is he reminded of Alex everytime he sees him?
"I think Alex would disagree though." He chuckles. "But we won’t know, will we? He never got to see him. Funny how he was the one more excited about the baby and in spite of me always risking my life out there, he is the one who left me alone. I should be the dead one, not him. He wanted to change the world, and all he did was change me."
"John..." Eliza whispers. She has nothing to say. There is nothing to say. She takes his arm and rests her head on his shoulder as the two of them watch the baby sleep.
"Can I stay here for a bit?" he says after a long moment.
"Of course. I'll go check if you guest room is okay."
John sits on the floor, leaning on the wardrobe behind as Eliza leaves. He watches Philip through the bars of the crib, the subtle rise and fall of his tiny chest, and his pouty pink lips parting as he breaths out. He wants to love him like Alex would. But how can he when he constantly reminds him of Alex?... maybe that's how.
He nods off himself and wakes up to Philip’s wailing. He stands up quickly and looks at him. His tiny hands are made into fists, eyes tightly shut and mouth wide open as he cried.
"Um..." he doesn't know what to do. He gives him one of the minions, Philip is indifferent to it, doesn't even open his eyes. He is red in the face. "Eliza!" he calls and goes to her bedroom. It's empty but he can hear the sound of running water coming from the attached bathroom. He knocks on the door. "Eliza, the... the baby's crying."
"Dang.” She tsks. “He's probably hungry. Can you just go pick him up for a bit while I dry off?"
"I don't-"
"Please, John?"
"Okay, okay."
He walks back slowly. And looks at Philip for a long moment before picking him up. He knows how to pick up babies, knows how to rub their backs and soothe them. But this is foreign somehow.
As soon as he picks him up and holds him in front of him, his crying subsides and he looks at John. John stops breathing. A pair of unmistakable warm eyes look back at him.