Work Text:
This was utterly ridiculous, Sasha thought as he stared down the baby. His baby. He was trying to comfort Vivian, dammit; god knew Milla needed the rest. And yet this young mind saw fit to cry whenever she was passed off to him -- her actual father .
This was not going well in the slightest. Sasha had already had a whole host of worries about becoming a father, and this screaming infant in front of him saw fit to confirm every single one of them. Why couldn't the Psychonauts have just lobbied to repeal that useless "no entering a minor's brain" rule? Maybe if he had been able to practice, he would be able to cross enough wires in Vivi's head to be happy for the moment. But no, the kid just kept crying, and Sasha was getting more and more frustrated with the whole situation.
"Okay, okay," Sasha said. "You are clearly upset about this situation. Perhaps we can talk this through. Just inform me of what you want."
Vivian just kept wailing. Sasha sighed and looked around. What did babies even like anyway? He had read books upon books upon books about it, but now that his daughter was actually in his arms, all the knowledge had completely vanished from his head. Keys? Toys? No idea. He'd need to look into that later. Right now, he needed to focus on calming Vivi down.
Sasha cleared his throat and tried again. "So, Vivian, tell me what's wrong."
More wailing. Sasha sighed and shook his head. "I understand that all of this is new to you,” he tried to reassure the baby, “but I assure you, you have far more freedom out here than you did in there."
Vivian did not seem to care about this particular revelation. Sasha frowned, trying to search deep in his memories. What did his mother used to do to calm him down?
Oh, right, that song. The song he unfortunately lost back in the Rhombus. Sasha closed his eyes and hummed the tune, at least as best as he could remember it.
Vivian stopped crying for a bit, which he took as a good sign. He continued humming and rocking Vivian gently until she finally fell asleep.
Finally. He had climbed the first hill when it came to fatherhood.
Now he just had a whole mountain range ahead of him to overcome.
***
Vivian was a fast learner, and at only three months old, she quickly realized she could make noises with her mouth that weren't just wailing or the occasional burst of laughter, like the heavily nuanced utterances of "ba" or, if she was feeling particularly risque, "ma". He tried to tell Milla that it didn't really mean much of anything, just a natural experimentation of the vocal chords and lips, but she was still ecstatic, and Sasha couldn't help but have that rub off on him as well. Still, he was fairly skeptical when Milla came running into the room, tears in her eyes, excitedly announcing that she believed Vivian had just called her "mama".
Sasha shook his head. "Milla, she's three months old. She isn't anywhere near that developmental milestone yet."
"I'm telling you, Sasha, she said it! Here, I'll show you!" She ran out of the room, then ran back, holding the tiny girl up by her armpits. "See?"
And Vivian was saying "ma" repeatedly. That being the keyword: repeatedly . Mamamamamamamamamamamamama.
"Milla, I'm fairly certain she's just experimenting with sounds."
Milla frowned, turning Vivian to look at her. "Your father doesn't seem to understand how smart you are yet," she cooed to the baby, who, for her part, politely stopped babbling as her mother spoke. "Let's prove him wrong. Can you say 'baba'?"
"Milla--"
"Hush, darling. Daddy’s right here. Can you say 'baba' for him?"
Vivian just stared owlishly at her mother. Milla huffed, then turned her around, passing her off to Sasha. "Here, maybe you need to hold her first."
Sasha sighed, but indulged his wife, taking the little girl into his arms, holding her out in front of him. Vivian stared back at him.
Then, suddenly, something happened. Her eyes narrowed, face scrunching up in concentration. Her mouth began to move. Sasha stared, his eyes widening in anticipation. Was it really possible? Was she really able to speak this early in her life? She let out a small sound, her mouth moving even more–
And proceeded to spit up all over her onesie.
Milla quickly took her back. "...Okay, I might have been wrong."
"Possibly so."
***
Sasha woke up to what sounded like someone bumping against the wall. He got up blearily.
"What is it?" Milla slurred next to him, half-asleep.
"I thought I heard someone," he told her, reaching for his shades.
He sat up in bed, waiting. Sure enough, another bump against the wall. And it sounded like it was coming from Vivian's room.
He quickly got out of bed, rushing to Vivian's room. He flung open the door, ready to blast the hell out of anyone trying to mess with his daughter–
And stopped in his tracks at what he saw.
He eventually heard Milla walk up behind him, groaning. "Darling, it is way too early in the morning for you to be-- oh ."
Oh was right. There wasn't much else to really say when your child was literally floating around the room, bumping into walls.
Sasha and Milla stared at their baby, who seemed rather unaffected by the whole thing, hitting a wall, giggling, then floating to the other wall, hitting it, giggling, rinse and repeat.
"...Milla?"
"...Yes?"
"...Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm fairly certain children are supposed to learn to walk before showing any psychic abilities, right?"
"That’s right."
They stared at their daughter, who seemed to be having the time of her life.
“Well, Milla, I’m fairly certain we know who she takes after now.”
"Wonderful. …I'm gonna go lock all our windows."
"That does sound wise."
***
Another day at work, another day of mentoring the junior agent Razputin Aquato, which this early in the morning (that is, before Sasha’s first coffee and cigarette), meant putting the boy on assistant duty for an hour or so. Raz was excitedly searching for a paper for Sasha when he came across a leash in his desk. "Oh cool! Did you get a dog, Agent Nein!?"
"No, that's just for my daughter."
“...”
Raz was strangely quiet for the rest of the day.