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Carlos usually wakes up first when Isla cries. Sometimes, he’s the only one who wakes up. TK is a deep sleeper, and the exhaustion of working twenty-four-hour shifts a few times a week and caring for a newborn baby in between them takes its toll. Carlos has had to shake him awake more times than either of them would like to admit.
Carlos knows his husband feels bad about it. He’s said a thousand times how badly he feels that Carlos spends all day taking care of their daughter and then TK can’t even wake up reliably to help him at night. He’s told Carlos how he worries about the first time he’ll be left alone with her at night, how he wonders if he’ll wake up at all when she cries, without Carlos there to ensure he does.
Carlos has assured him he will, his fatherly instincts will make sure of it. He also tells TK he needs to forgive himself, because in Isla’s two weeks at home with them, Carlos has only had to physically shake TK awake twice. The rest of the time, he has managed it on his own.
However, even though TK does wake up, he’s never woken up first.
Needless to say, this means that when Carlos opens his eyes late one night to see the bassinet next to their bed empty, he panics.
He shoots straight up in bed, and nearly yells out (to whom he’s not sure), before noticing that his husband isn’t where he should be either. TK’s side of the bed is rumpled but cold, and it looks like maybe he never actually fell asleep. The man may be a deep sleeper, but sometimes actually falling asleep is a struggle for him. But, it would explain why he heard Isla first if she woke up, he was probably awake enough to hear her fussing before she even got to crying.
There’s a thin sliver of soft light coming from their living room, brighter than the street lights that shine through the windows typically are. TK must have taken Isla out of the bedroom to soothe her, to avoid waking Carlos.
So much for that, because apparently his brain has a "missing baby" sense. Which could come in handy, given how much trouble the people he loves seem to attract.
He shakes that thought away though, because if anything ever happened to Isla, he’d burn down the world and everything that stood in his way until he knew she was safe again. He’d do that for TK as well, but the nature of his husband’s job and the risks that come with it require him to be slightly less overprotective. Isla is only three weeks old, so Carlos believes he has the right to be as overprotective of her as he would like.
He also knows that TK is probably doing just fine with her right now, but his curiosity gets the best of him. And maybe he misses them a little. Sue him.
Carlos slides out of bed and creeps over to the bedroom door that is standing open just a crack. He peers through the small gap, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu about doing the same thing all those years ago, the night he saw TK talking to Cooper on the phone. Instead of the guilty sting of jealousy in his chest, he feels nothing but love when he sees what his husband is doing tonight.
TK is tucked into the corner of their couch, reclining back on the cushions. He’s got his favourite (and at this point, very worn) throw blanket tucked around his shoulders, and another (much newer) blanket tucked over his legs. Even in the dim light, Carlos can also immediately tell that TK’s wearing Carlos’ University of Texas hoodie. Carlos couldn’t tell you the last time he wore that hoodie, to be honest. TK had found it in a closet at the ranch like five years ago and had taken ownership ever since.)
On his chest, he’s cradling what might as well be just a tiny lump. Isla isn’t even visible to Carlos from here, wrapped in her own baby blanket (an impeccably soft, homemade one from Mateo’s Abuela that he proudly presented them with less than two days after they brought her home), tucked under TK’s (Carlos’) hoodie, and with the fluffy blanket covering TK’s legs draped on top of that.
Carlos knows she’s there though, because otherwise he has concerns about who else TK would be speaking softly to.
"-and I’m sorry I leave sometimes. I have to go to work. Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but when I started reorganizing the apartment I knew it was time to get out of the house before your papa killed me. " Carlos’ husband is telling their daughter.
He’s not wrong. About a week ago, TK randomly opened Carlos’ spice cabinet and started staring at it appraisingly. After already mucking up the utensil drawer, Carlos had told him he needed to call Tommy about going back to work before he ended up sleeping on the couch. Which, to be fair, was unlikely to happen because no matter what TK did, Carlos wasn’t going to punish himself by having to sleep alone. But his empty threat had got the message across.
"You have the best papa in the world, you know that?" TK's saying now, "He loves you so much. He loves me so much. Still can’t always believe just how much. " Isla shifts as TK speaks, and he stops for a moment to shush her softly and rub her back.
"He spends all day with you and wakes up all night with you, and he drives to San Antonio to pick up your milk, and he just knows all the right things to do without ever googling them, and he’s got this lovely chest that’s just so nice to take a nap on, which I haven’t done in almost a month. You really need to stop stealing my spot, little bug."
Carlos rolls his eyes at the nickname, even despite them brimming with tears. He’s not sure why TK insists on calling their daughter an insect, but the nickname seems to be here to stay, so he’s learning to love it. At least it’s not lizard related.
Isla makes an adorable little snuffling sound, and TK smiles brightly.
"What’d I ever do to deserve you two?" TK asks. "A perfect little girl and a perfect husband. How can I even compete?"
"We’re not perfect." Carlos says, unable to help himself. TK’s whole body jolts, his hands tightening around the lump that is their daughter and his eyes flying up to meet Carlos’. Isla doesn’t cry though, or even fuss, so he’s managed to contain his reaction to being snuck up in the middle of the night pretty well. Carlos continues. "Some of us get a little neurotic when the bookshelf hasn’t been dusted in two weeks, and some of us spit up on ourselves a dozen times a day."
"I’m really hoping the second one is Isla…" TK says. Carlos leaves their bedroom doorway and approaches the couch. TK leans forward automatically, holding Isla firmly to his chest, and Carlos slides behind him, bracketing his husband between his legs. He pulls the old throw from TK’s shoulders, draping it around his own so he can wrap them both up once TK leans back against his chest. He continues speaking.
"And some of us are a little accident prone and have a tendency to lose our keys four times a week–"
"Hey!"
"And somehow manage to get more water on the floor when taking a bath than in the bathtub itself."
"I was being nice to you. Why are you insulting me at three in the morning?" TK asks.
"They’re not insults, they’re just pieces of you." Carlos whispers in his ear. "Slightly irritating pieces of you, but still pieces. And I love every piece of you, no matter what. Because all of those pieces make up an amazing man, who has allowed me to love him and smother him and be a little neurotic over dust on bookshelves with him for years. And hopefully will continue to allow me to do so, even if I get more neurotic about dust in the future."
TK doesn’t say anything to that, just sniffles a little and presses himself firmly back against Carlos’ chest. Carlos peers over TK’s shoulder at Isla, who is fully asleep on his husband's chest. He lifts one hand to gently stroke her tiny head, placing the other one on top of TK's resting on her back.
"And I love every single piece of Isla too, even though right now they mostly seem to be about eating, sleeping, and destroying her clothing with bodily functions." Carlos continues. TK laughs now, twisting his neck to try and look Carlos in the eyes.
"Another onesie bit the dust today?"
" Two ," Carlos says, "I don’t know how she does it."
"Well clearly, she’s going to excel at everything in life, starting with explosive poops." TK replies, turning back to look at the baby in question.
"Could we maybe switch to sleeping through the night instead?" Carlos mumbles against the top of his head. "Were you awake when she started fussing?"
TK nods. "Yea, I just couldn’t sleep for some reason. So, when I heard her wake up, we decided to come out here for some snuggles and let you get some much-deserved sleep. "
"I appreciate the sentiment, but apparently my inability to sleep without you nearby has also extended to her."
TK just hums softly in response, and Carlos becomes aware of how heavily he’s starting to lean on his chest. Apparently, some cuddles is just what both his husband and his daughter needed to fall asleep.
"Baby, we should go back to bed, put her in her bassinet." Carlos whispers, but TK isn’t in any hurry to move.
"Just a few more minutes." TK mumbles. "She’s comfy."
With his warm husband resting against his chest and their sleeping daughter on his, Carlos is powerless to argue. This is arguably the most comfortable he’s ever been in his life. It might even beat the first morning of their honeymoon in Hawaii, when he woke up next to TK after sleeping for twelve hours straight in the plushest California king-sized bed on the planet.
He’ll need to get them all up and back into their beds soon. He can feel his own eyelids growing heavy and it’s not safe for them all to sleep here. But he has to agree with TK.
For just a few more minutes, they can stay wrapped in the love and comfort of this moment.