Archive of Our Own ^beta

The scream was familiar, not that any scream sounded that different from another. It brought back memories of Maru as a newborn, red in the face and thrashing. Wailing for attention and affection. His mother had never been good with infants, and anyone stupid enough to leave a newborn with his mother deserved a knock from CPS for the sheer stupidity of the notion. By no means was there any malice that Robin held for children, no. 

She was just simply terrible with kids. Power tools and babies don’t mix well. 

He knew the infant that was being subjected to his mother’s awful child-rearing skills. The farmer and Sam no doubt. There simply weren’t any other babies in town. 

A strange weight of some emotion he couldn’t place made itself at home in his gut. No longer able to find comfort in his blankets. He rolled out of bed with a sigh, burying whatever weight beneath his consciousness. Someone had to do something to save that infant from its woes, so he threw on some clothes and stumbled up the basement steps to see what torment he could alleviate the parasite from.

The farmer sat at the head of their dining table, forehead pressed firmly to the wood. Her frame was rigid and minutely trembling. Moirai tilted her head briefly, their eyes not quite making contact. She looked terrible, her sun-kissed skin looked paper-thin, her eyes ringed with heavy bags, and face gaunt. It was like she had aged 30 years in the 3 months it’d been since they last saw one another. Then, round with child and that pregnancy glow about her lovely features. He remembered the very emotion he's squashed today beating on his sternum at the sight of her radiance months ago. 

He hadn’t seen either of them since Sam’s birthday. He’d signed the card his mother took to the clinic when the baby was born but had little interest in seeing the new family until most of it was defiling the sanctuary of his morning. 

That feeling returned, the weight jumped up to his throat when his eyes met the back of the chubby little thing. His chest constricted and again, he carefully avoided that thought boiling below his conscious mind and focused on the way his mother's face contorted in discomfort as the child yanked at her hair. 

A piercing scream made everyone cringe, the infant banging its little fist against her chest and pulling at their tuft of midnight hair with the other. Robin made pleading whispers to the irate infant as she tried to coax it with a bottle, holding the thing at an awkward angle. 

Sebastian shook his head, not missing how Moirai buried her face in the wood to hide herself from him. 

“Oh thank god you’re here Sebby, this little gal hates me!” Robin unceremoniously shoved the infant into his arms before collapsing in the dining chair head in her hands. “Work your magic, please. I can’t take it anymore!”

Sebastian took another steadying breath and adjusted the wriggling babe, leaning back slightly so they- she could rest against his heart which he focused on maintaining at a steady beat, regardless of those thoughts boiling in his chest.

The child calmed near instantly, her banging fist opened as her limp head rested comfortably. The hand that had been tugging at her hair gently unraveled. Her hand instantly curled around his finger instead. “The trick is not being frustrated. Babies pick up on that. Remember how Maru screamed for weeks when you were building her addition on the house?”

The nostalgic smile on his mother's face warmed the ice in his chest, she looked up and patted his hip affectionately “Oh that was just a terrible time. Maru was inconsolable if I so much as breathed in her direction. Broke my heart. You were so sweet, 8 years old, and a better mom than I was! I’m sure I have a picture of you two somewhere around here. Mori, remind me to show you later! It’s adorable.” 

Moirai mumbled something from the table, curling in on herself as Robin relaxed, a soft giggle broke the almost serene silence. “She wouldn’t leave your side for months after! You’ve always been great with children honey.” 

Seb grumbled and took the bottle from the table. Smoothly adjusting the now placid baby to cradle her in the crook of his arm. He guided the babe to drink and relented when her vice grip clung to his finger still. 

But his eyes couldn’t linger on the infant’s face, instead traveled across the room to land on the still slumped Moirai at his kitchen table. Her shoulders slowly released the tension that seemed to be etched into her features since last they met. 

“You alright? Motherhood doesn’t look good on you.”

Moirai groaned and sat up straight. The usual cheery light behind her eyes dimmed, hair disheveled in a messy bun that threatened to escape the confines of the headband holding the wavy midnight locks back. Clad in an oversized hoodie she’d stolen from him years ago and some baggy track pants. She looked exhausted, worse than any hard day’s work in the field could do. Exhausted and absolutely miserable. 

“She doesn’t sleep…” The farmer murmured. “I’ve slept maybe 5 hours since I had her. It's just crying, always crying..” her voice dripped with defeat and misery. The usually charming and energetic farmer is barely able to keep her eyes open. 

Robin let out a hearty laugh and patted Sebastian’s arm, “Sounds like Seb when he was a baby! So fussy, and never gave me a wink of sleep. Worst 3 months of my life until he got a routine down. It gets better though Moirai, I promise. Little gal just needs to find her rhythm and then it's smooth sailing til she learns the word ‘no’!” 

“I hope so, I don’t think I’m prepared to be a mom.” Moirai sank into her chair and scratched at the wood absently. He almost felt bad for her. He wondered how Sam was fairing with this. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and withdrew from their conversation as Robin offered support to the new mom. He focused on the child in his arm. Never being one to socialize, let alone at dawn.

The child was healthy, he supposed he should be glad for that, he couldn’t imagine Sam being able to handle a sickly child, he was too soft. The kid had one hell of a grip, rotating between his finger and her little tuft of dark hair. Curiosity got the better of him, and unable to look away, he studied the girl’s features.

She was a small, delicate thing. Her tiny nose had the same slope as Moirai though, seemingly the only thing the girl got from her. While her hair was dark like Moirai’s, it didn’t contain that shine of blue and purple in the light, no. The girl’s hair was a light-consuming void  Straight and thick, unlike her mother’s silky waves. It was her eyes that made his heart sink, a petite almond shape with the lids of her eyes ending in short eyelashes, her iris a deep brown, dark enough to nearly swallow her pupils. 

Just like his own. 

They were tiny mirrors staring back at him. Anxiety consumed him at the thought of others noticing what was plain as day. This was- No, Moirai could have a similar heritage to him, maybe the kid’s eyes would change color or the hair would calm to the soft waves that cascaded down her mother’s back. The kid just needed to grow into her features. 

It had to be in his head, it’d been a couple of months since this kid was born and he was the last to see it in the entire town. Someone would have said something. 

He was blowing this out of proportion. The thought was buried before it could finish forming as the child picked up on his tension and began to wriggle. Sebastian soothed the tepid thing with a gentle rocking motion and soon the kid relaxed once more. Settling back to enjoying her meal. 

“Go on and leave honey, Sam shouldn’t be the only one getting some shut-eye! Seb and I can watch little Erinyes for a few hours. We'll bring her back to you two this evening."

 Moirai nodded and smiled sleepily, “Thank you, genuinely. Since Jodi and Kent took Vincent on a sabbatical, we haven’t had any help. I’ll make it up to you two.” Her eyes barely held open as she mumbled a promise of her best wine in the cellar. 

Robin tsked and shooed her to the door before hugging her, whispering motherly promises and encouragement he didn’t have the care to hear. 

She’d probably end up asleep in a bush before she made it back to the farm. 

Once the door closes Robin shakes her head and turns to dig in the cupboard for some coffee grounds for the two of them “Honestly, so young. I remember being in her place with you. Young, clueless, broke, and alone."

He grimaced at the mention. His mind rejected any thoughts of his father. "She's got Sam and a successful farm." 

The strained gurgling of the coffee pot puttering to life filled the space between them as they looked at each other awkwardly. Neither wanted to budge on their view.

She sighed and readied their mugs, a cheesy matching 'world's okay-est mom' and 'world's best son" side by side.

"Knowing Sam, she’s probably getting no help with the little one. We should offer to watch her more.” 

Sebastian scoffs, adjusting the now dozing Erinyes in his hold. “It’s their kid, why should we watch it?” He wasn't the one who didn't wear protection. 

The acidic voice gnawing at his gut said otherwise. 

…well he did, but that is irrelevant.

Robin swatted him as she poured the right amount of creamer into each mug,  “It's the neighborly thing to do, Marnie was the only reason I survived your first year. Pay it forward and whatnot."

The brewer between them puttered a pitiful death rattle as the pot finished, prompting her to fill the mugs. 

The first sip was always heavenly, of that mother and son could agree. The two shared in a companionable silence as bitter caffeine warmed their blood. 

"Not to mention that's your best friend's daughter after all.” Robin leans in to get a better look at the placid infant, a reminiscent smile grows as she gently caresses the girl's rosy cheeks.

“She reminds me of you.” Robin cooed at the child in his arms, gently brushing her hair out of his face.

Sebastian didn’t comment. 

“Hardest months of my life, but so worth it. To see you grow up and become such a great man." She leaned up to brush his bangs from his eyes, a smile that creased her crows' feet with a love challenging her skin's ability to hold it. 

He bet Sam smiled at this little girl the same way.

"Don't worry about those two, they'll be fine with a good night's sleep.” Sebastian nods, gently swaying the girl, lost in intrusive thoughts.

“Especially if she grows up to be half as great as my favorite son~” 

Seb huffed, "I’m your only son.” 

“Still my favorite, no competition Sebby.” Robin pecked his cheek and headed to the door "I'll be in my shop if you need me."

"You're just going to leave me alone with a kid?!" 

Robin chuckled and gave a half-hearted wave over her shoulder "we both know I'm terrible with babies."

And like that he was alone. 

Just him and this little human cooing and gripping his finger like a lifeline. 

He didn’t look down immediately, but he decided there were other times to ponder the pleasant weight of the little bundle in his arms. 

Precariously, he balanced his near-full mug with the bottle and the child tucked in his arm, resigned himself to his fate. It would only be a few hours, he could do this for Sam. For Sam’s daughter. 

He set about making a small nest of blankets on the empty space of his desk, something the child could slot into easily while he worked. There was no point in wasting waking hours when he had a commission due date on the horizon.

---

He needed a distraction, unwanted images of his past actions flickered through his head every time he so much as glanced at the now dozing bundle on his desk. 

Moirai was the reason for all of this mess in his mind. If she hadn’t gotten so close to him, he probably would be in the city now, taking commissions in his midtown apartment, looking over the vast city skyline. 

But she had to move here and worm herself under his skin. She just had to meddle in the life of his best friend and play with Sam’s heart. Now he was reaping the consequence of the child cooing at him on his desk. 

The code on his screen blurred, lines melding into something unreadable as his mind swam with emotions, memories, and thoughts he has worked so hard to repress since the wedding. He’d barely been at his desk an hour before he had to step away. 

He paced the floor, focusing on the specks of dirt and smudges of ash in the carpet. Anything but the thought of how her skin felt against his, how those sinful golden eyes welled with tears and cherry lips turned blue under the weight of his crushing grip on her neck. He’d seen red, consumed by lust and rage. She did this to him. 

You did this to her. To Sam. Now the consequence of it is right in front of you. 

He was weak and she was easy. Pliant and submissive. It was her fault that Sebastian developed feelings. She let herself be caught. She wanted to be caught. To be pinned down and reminded of her place over and over again. She had no business playing with Sam’s heart and he punished her for-

“Da-da!” the baby- Erinyes yelped. 

His chest constricted, and before he knew what he was doing, he scooped the child into his arms once more. 

Erinyes cooed and babbled happily in his arms, reaching up for him in awkward motions, a pure smile beaming up at him.

His heart clenched, this innocent life in his arms filled those dark crevices with something unconditional, something he was powerless to stop. He knew this child was his. No paternity test was needed to come to that conclusion. It was obvious. 

It hurt. 

This little human would never know him as a father. Sam was her father, and hopefully, that was all she would ever know. 

He would get to watch her grow from afar. He would never get to see her first steps, hear her mumble her first word, or walk her to school on the first day. He’d never get to watch her personality bloom from this blank slate into the woman she would become. No little doodles to paint his walls or her weight against his chest when she needed comfort after a bad dream. No tea parties and no playtimes. No place in her life to be loved. 

That was reserved for Sam. He had both taken and given that right to his best friend. In a fit of obsessive, toxic passion. He had given up all rights to this child. 

And for what? To grip himself every night at the memories of the farmer? He tainted the blossoms of his best friend’s feelings for her and ruined her. 

The consequence never crossed his mind. All the nights he would watch them through the window. Every time he would corner her somewhere dark and unseen to subject her to his whims. To remind her just what she was. His mind had been consumed with her, he wanted her and nothing else mattered. He fooled himself into thinking nothing would happen. Just once. He would tell himself over and over. Never considering that the path would lead to this. 

His daughter…

Sam’s daughter.

Moirai is someone’s daughter. Would his daughter suffer the same fate? 

The baby cooed and tugged at the drawstrings of his hoodie happily. Pulling him from his spiral of grief at a life he never lead and all the decisions he made to get here. 

His focus was brought back to her. There were wet spots on her onesie, he touched his cheek. He didn’t realize he had been crying. 

He wiped the tears on the back of his sleeve and took a steady breath. This was his fate and he resigned to it. He wasn’t this girl’s father, just a faceless sperm donor no different than his own. 

He was no different than his own father…

But he could pretend, just for today. That everything was different and she did belong to him. He would treasure this moment he had been afforded. 

So the few hours they shared, his eyes never left her tiny form. She stayed tucked against him as he committed every detail to memory. Alone, just father and daughter enjoying their time. He cherished every sound she made and every movement her little form learned. He treasured the way she would smile whenever he did. Like this time was as special to her as it was to him. 

---

Time had a nasty habit of moving too slowly when needed to be passed and too fast when you wanted to savor it. Before he knew it, his mother called for dinner. 

Erinyes looked towards the door where she called from, splayed out on a blanket with a Solarian figurine clenched in one hand. The pair in the middle of making babbles at one another. 

“I should probably take Erinyes back to Sam and Moirai before it gets too late!” She said behind the door. 

Sebastian sighed, that anxious pit returned for the nth time today. He wasn’t ready to give her up. 

“I can take her home.”  He said a little too enthusiastically. “I… I haven’t seen Sam in a while.”

A silence stretched between the door, “Okay, be sure to bundle her up! It’s starting to feel like winter.” 

He mumbled an affirmation and set about packing her things into the diaper bag Moirai had left. Out the door before Robin could get a word in. 

It was nearly sundown when Sebastian finally made his way back to the Ranch, little Erinyes bundled up in his Galaxy Wars blanket to protect her from the winterly chill of the weaning evening. He knew he was good with kids and all, but she was a breeze. She ate a couple of times, mostly slept, and occasionally wanted to be held and stare up at him with her big doe eyes.

He didn’t see how Moirai, let alone Sam could be struggling so much with this sleepy blob. 

He sighed and looked down at Erinyes one last time. She was fast asleep, suckling her thumb peacefully. He felt the threatening sting of tears crawl up the bridge of his nose at the heartwarming sight. He placed one last gentle kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment to enjoy the last bit of peace she brought. 

With a sharp knock at the door, soft curses could be heard followed by a resounding thud from the other side. Sebastian schooled his expression and failed to keep it that way when he came face to face with Sam’s beaming smile.

Sam pulled him inside and gave him an awkward hug, avoiding the sleeping baby. “Seb! Thanks for watching Erinyes today. I’ve never slept so good in my life! Like, dead to the world for a whole 8 hours it was bliss. ” 

Sebastian was relieved to see Sam looking much better off than Moirai. His normally messy mullet even worse than normal, bags under his eyes, but still that same ‘Sam” energy about him. He bitterly wondered if he would look as good if he was taking care of his an infant.

The light of the hearth was the only thing that kept the shadows at bay in their quiet living room. It was an appropriate metaphor Sebastian supposed. 

He nodded and handed over the sleeping infant to her father, heart clenched at the way Sam melted holding his little girl, the light in his crystal blue eyes softer, more gentle. 

“Little lady is worth every minute of it, but damn actually sleeping for more than an hour was great. Still, I hate to miss a minute with her. Thanks for watching her man. I know she can be a handful, little spitfire, just like her papa.” He grinned and gave his daughter a light peck on the forehead same as Sebastian had just done. A gentle hand smoothed over her tuft of hair. 

“Looks just like her mama, doesn’t she? She’ll be a hearteater one day I swear it.” He beamed and Sebastian felt an iota of relief knowing that’s how he viewed his daughter’s features. 

Sam motioned to the kitchen table, urging him to sit before he dug in the fridge and produced 2 bottles of Moirai’s ipas, “Fresh out the keg. They’re killer.” He twisted the top onehanded with the practiced ease of their rambunctious youth before he took a seat across from his friend, daughter unbothered as she curled closer to his chest, grasping at his flannel. 

“Thanks.” Sebastian took the beer and downed half in one swig. He needed some kind of relief from the way his mind licked venom at the sight of his daughter Erinyes so comfortable in Sam’s arms. 

“Hard to believe I’m a dad right? Cheers!” He whispered excitedly, the two clinked their bottles gently to not wake the infant. 

Sebastian leaned back, reminding himself that he got what he said he wanted in the end. Sam’s happiness. “Congrats, you’re finally a dad. Got the whole domestic fantasy. A wife, a house, a career, and now a kid. You made it bud.” Somehow, the words still felt hollow. 

Sam beamed, unable to conceal his glee, eyes nearly crescents in his joy. “It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m so lucky I met Mori. That we have all of this now. I hope you find this one day too, there’s nothing like it.” 

He forced a wry smile and raised his bottle in defeat. “You’re probably right.”