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Before his daughter was born, Carlos didn’t think it was possible to love anyone as fiercely as he loved TK.
He’d been proven wrong the moment the nurse placed Isla in his arms.
He hadn’t thought it was possible he could love TK even more either.
Again, he was proven wrong the moment he saw his husband hold their daughter for the first time. TK Strand, every loving, sweet and messy bit of him, was meant to be a father.
And Carlos loves him even more every time he watches him with their daughter.
- - -
1. One Week
It’s late in the evening, and Isla’s asleep in her bassinet in their bedroom after being fed, rocked and cuddled for longer than Carlos’ meticulous schedule strictly permits. Unfortunately, as he’s learned many times over this past week, the schedule has nothing on big green eyes and a newborn baby.
TK and Carlos are lying on the couch, attempting to stay awake until Isla needs to be fed at ten, and failing.
Carlos’ husband is dozing on his chest, to the point that there is drool wetting his shirt (He’s in so deep he finds that somehow cute ) and Carlos is sort of watching a rerun of some home renovation show that’s playing exceptionally quietly on the TV. Except when he opens his eyes after closing them for half a second, the pile of rubble that used to be a living room is now a master bedroom with an ensuite.
He’s about to give up and just let himself fall asleep, when TK suddenly startles awake and pushes himself upright on Carlos’ chest.
“Isla’s waking up.”
“Wuh?” Carlos mumbles, squinting at the baby monitor that’s propped up on the coffee table next to them. The grainy black and white video shows a baby who appears to be still deeply asleep. “Babe, I don’t think–”
“She’s definitely waking up.” TK interrupts him. He attempts to stand up, but still half-asleep and clumsy, he instead just rolls off of Carlos and thumps to the floor. Carlos should possibly be concerned, but after seven years with TK in his life, he’s become pretty used to his general lack of grace. “I’ll get her bottle ready.”
Carlos just stares after him as TK manages to pull himself from the floor and heads into the kitchen. Carlos has never known his husband to be a sleepwalker, and sleep-parenting would be even more impressive. But Isla is definitely still asleep, and so was TK until a minute ago, there’s no way he could’ve known–
A soft, squeaky cry comes from the bedroom and Carlos whips around to look at the closed door. He turns to look back at TK, who is carefully warming a bottle of donated breast milk.
“How did you–” Carlos starts to say, but he’s interrupted by a cry that is not soft or squeaky, and more of an ear-shattering screech.
“She’s hungry, babe.” TK says, completely oblivious to Carlos’ total bafflement and calm despite their child doing her best banshee impression. “Go get her.”
Carlos is still incredibly confused, but Isla is making her displeasure very well known to the entire building, so he climbs off the couch and heads into the bedroom to retrieve her.
She quiets slightly when he lifts her from her basket, wrapped up like a little burrito. She’s still crying, but some part of her is soothed by Carlos’ presence, a concept that consistently makes him want to sob. This tiny, brand-new human recognizes him as warm, safe and loving.
He cuddles Isla close, shushing her softly as he moves back into the living space. TK is right there holding a bottle and a burp cloth, and gesturing for Carlos to sit on the couch again.
He does, and TK plops right next to him, handing over the perfectly warmed bottle. As Carlos nudges it against Isla’s mouth, TK tucks the burp cloth over Carlos’ shoulder and then grabs a throw pillow and shoves it under his arm to support Isla’s weight.
Once their daughter is happily drinking away, Carlos manages to tear his gaze away from her tiny, perfect little face and turns to ask his husband how he knew Isla was waking up.
Only he finds said husband is dead asleep once again, curled up against the back of the couch and drooling on it instead of Carlos.
As much as Carlos would like an explanation right away, he’s not about to wake up his exhausted husband just to question him on his possible newfound telepathic abilities.
He’ll put their daughter back to sleep, carry TK to bed while he pretends to still be totally asleep so Carlos won’t make him walk, and then question him in the morning.
Assuming TK remembers any of this happening.
And assuming this isn’t all a very vivid dream on Carlos’ part and he’s actually asleep on the couch right now, waiting for Isla to wake up.
God, being a parent is tiring.
- - -
2. Two Months
Carlos is not having the greatest day.
TK left after dinner last night for his first twenty-four hour shift since Isla was born two months ago. So, while TK is off being responsible for saving people’s lives, Carlos has been solely responsible for Isla all night long.
He’s managed it before, TK has done a few night shifts in the last month, but then morning would come, he’d be home and eagerly whisking Isla away for a cuddle. Then Carlos would have the luxury to shower and eat breakfast without a baby in his arms.
However, this morning has arrived with no TK and Isla in a bad mood.
It doesn’t seem that there’s anything particularly wrong with her, because she’s been fed, changed, and cuddled, yet she’s still screaming anytime Carlos tries to put her down.
At half past eleven, when Carlos feels like he might start screaming along with her, he decides they should go visit her daddy at work.
He’ll probably get teased within an inch of his life for being unable to go a full day without seeing his husband, but Carlos doesn’t care at this point. He desperately needs to talk to someone who doesn’t wear diapers and be able to use both of his own hands simultaneously for more than thirty seconds.
So he dresses Isla in an adorable little onesie, gets himself looking at least halfway human, and packs everything a baby could possibly need (and more) into the diaper bag. He secures Isla in her stroller, which she surprisingly doesn’t hate, and they’re ready to go.
They live about a thirty minute walk from the firehouse, which is long enough that TK typically drives to work, but short enough that on a nice day like today, Carlos is happy to go on foot.
Isla is perfectly content to lie in her stroller and stare up at the sky and buildings they pass by, and for the first time since TK left last night, Carlos feels peaceful.
-
All of the various emergency vehicles are in the garage when Carlos and Isla arrive at the firehouse, and the noise coming from the direction of the kitchen suggests Carlos has arrived just in time for lunch. His stomach rumbles at the thought, since his breakfast was interrupted, and then promptly postponed, by Isla spitting up all over him.
He pushes the stroller in the direction of the voices, obviously looking for his husband first. He hears him before he sees him.
“Baby!” TK exclaims, skipping down the steps from the second floor. Carlos instinctively braces himself, but TK lands solidly on his feet at the bottom. “What’re you doing here?”
“Your daughter,” Carlos says, gesturing a hand towards the baby that’s acting like she’s been nothing but a perfect angel. TK skips over, interrupting Carlos with a kiss and then unceremoniously body checking him out of the way so he can reach Isla. “Has been in quite the mood this morning.”
“ My daughter.” TK mocks him, lifting Isla from her seat and cuddling her close to his chest. “Already she’s just my daughter when she misbehaves.”
“Not sure where else she would’ve learned it from.”
TK sticks his tongue out at him, and Carlos rolls his eyes, trying to pretend that he’s not absolutely combusting with the force of the love he feels for these two.
“I don’t know what your Papa is talking about, Isla Jude.” TK says, talking to their daughter as he starts bouncing her gently. “You seem perfectly well-behaved to me.”
“Of course she does.” Carlos says, and immediately loses all pretense of being chill about his feelings. “She missed you. I missed you.”
TK looks at him again, with those gorgeous green eyes, and Carlos feels like he might collapse any moment.
“I missed you too, baby.” He says. “Now go have something to eat. Paul made some delicious pasta with spicy sausage.”
“Don’t you need to eat?”
“I already did.” TK tells him. “What I need is to snuggle my baby, and you already look a little hangry.”
Carlos would love to argue that, but it’s entirely true and pasta sounds delicious. He leaves the diaper bag in the stroller and heads to the kitchen, where he’s greeted with a slightly alarming amount of enthusiasm and served a heaping bowl of pasta and garlic bread.
He chats with the crew as he eats, enjoying an actual adult conversation, but he can’t help looking around for TK every once in a while. He seems to just be wandering the firehouse, talking to Isla and pointing out things she can’t possibly comprehend.
Coworkers approach him to see the baby, but TK never hands her over to anyone else.
TK has already told him so, but it warms some part of Carlos’ heart that he can see just how much his husband missed them too.
- - -
3. Six Months
The first time Isla gets really sick, she’s just six months old, and Carlos feels like the worst parent in the world.
Not because his baby is sick, although that isn’t helping, but because he’s just as ill and is useless to help her. When the two of them had almost simultaneously startled TK awake at four in the morning, Isla by screaming and Carlos by coughing, the man had checked their temperatures and immediately texted Tommy that he wouldn’t be at work.
TK spends the next three days being super-dad and super-husband. Carlos can barely get out of bed to go to the bathroom, and Isla is the neediest she’s been since she was a premature newborn in the hospital.
She spends most of her time secured to TK’s chest in a sling wrap, absorbing his warmth as TK rushes around the loft cooking and cleaning in between dispensing medicine and wiping Carlos’ forehead with a cool cloth.
-
TK’s voice wakes Carlos up on night three of the illness from hell.
“Baby?”
“Hmph?”
“I’m taking Isla to urgent care.”
Carlos wishes he could say he shot up and jumped out of bed, but the room is still spinning and his whole body feels like dead weight. However, his heart rate definitely spikes.
“What? Why?” He questions, trying to make sense of what he might’ve missed that has TK so worried.
“Her fever’s just a little too high and she won’t drink anything or keep medicine down.” TK explains. “She should be fine, but they might give her an IV to help.”
“I should come.” Carlos tries to insist, but he doesn’t even believe himself.
“You can’t, baby.” TK says. “You need to rest. We’ll be fine, I’ll text you about everything that happens.”
It doesn’t stop Carlos feeling like the worst dad in the world, but logically he knows he'd be nothing but a hindrance to TK, and to his daughter getting efficient care, if he were to try and go along.
“Everything you might need is right here.” TK says, gesturing to Carlos’ nightstand. “Call me if you feel worse, and I’ll come home or call someone.”
Carlos only has the energy to nod, and TK leans over to kiss his forehead.
“‘Love you.” Carlos croaks.
“Love you, too.” TK says. Carlos is asleep before TK has even left the room.
-
Incredibly, Carlos feels remarkably better when he wakes up the next morning (although it’s technically afternoon, his phone quickly informs him). He manages to get out of bed, by himself, without falling over. He uses the bathroom and brushes his teeth before last night comes rushing back, and then he’s hurrying into the bedroom to look more closely at his phone.
Just as TK promised, there’s almost thirty unread texts, giving him updates and details on everything that happened at the hospital. The last one, from around eight am, just says “on our way home”. But TK wasn’t in their bed, so Carlos heads toward the bedroom door to investigate and make sure his husband has actually made it home with their daughter.
When he slides the door open, he finds TK sitting on the couch with Isla fast asleep in his arms. He startles slightly when he notices Carlos approaching, and looks up at him with big, tired eyes.
“Are you feeling better?” He asks quietly, scared to wake the sleeping baby or possibly just too tired to make his voice any louder.
“Much.” Carlos says, sitting down carefully next to him and their daughter. TK leans into him, still moving gently so as to not disrupt Isla, and Carlos is immediately taken aback by the heat coming off his husband’s body. He shifts to press his hand to the other man's forehead.
“Sweetheart, you’re burning up.” Carlos says.
“I am?” TK says, and Carlos is becoming quickly aware of how dazed TK looks and sounds.
“When’s the last time you slept?”
“Um, I’m not sure.” He admits. “Isla doesn’t like being put down right now.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you felt bad?”
“Didn’t notice.” TK mumbles. “You were sick.” His voice cracks and he starts coughing, and the noise sounds rough and painful.
“Let me put Isla in her crib, TK.” Carlos says, already sliding his arms under her small body to take her from TK’s arms. “You did so good, but you need to let me help you now.”
TK doesn’t even fight him, just curling up in the corner of the couch once he’s no longer holding their daughter. Thankfully Isla’s deeply asleep, and she hardly moves when Carlos carries her across the loft and places her in her crib.
When she’s settled, Carlos heads back to the living room where his husband is. He leans down, moving TK’s arms to wrap around his neck and telling him to ‘hold on’ before he gently lifts him off the couch and into a standing position. Thankfully, TK’s legs are apparently still capable of holding his weight, because while Carlos is feeling better, he's not sure he’s quite capable of carrying a grown man yet.
He helps TK out of his clothes, the other man trembling feverishly as soon as layers are removed, and then tucks him into their bed.
“Are you okay?” TK mumbles, still fighting sleep. “Is Isla?”
“I’m fine, baby, and so is Isla.” Carlos whispers. TK mumbles incoherently and then rolls onto his stomach, burying his face in his pillow so deeply that Carlos has question how he’s breathing. He reaches out a hand to rub TK’s back and the other man sighs. “Let me take care of you now.”
- - -
4. Eight Months
Their friends love to tease TK, which is nothing new, but when they do it by mocking his parenting Carlos genuinely can’t understand what’s wrong with them.
TK always tells him to let it go, but it never stops bugging him.
They tease him for rearranging his schedule to make sure he never misses her baby swim classes on Saturday’s.
They tease him about his singing voice, even though his are the only lullabies Isla will tolerate. About how he’s the only one who can convince her to eat steamed broccoli, even though TK himself can’t stand the vegetable.
“No way he wakes up at two am on days off.” Mateo says one afternoon while they play Catan. “He sleeps like he’s in a coma, and that’s a genuine comparison.”
TK just rolls his eyes while grabbing a card with the hand not keeping Isla balanced on his knee. He’s bouncing her slightly as she chews on a silicone teether, dribbling drool all over TK’s arm and leg.
“It used to take him a minute.” Carlos says, very aware of how defensive his voice sounds “But now he’s up before me most of the time. Even after a shift.” TK, done with his turn, just reaches out and puts his hand on Carlos’ knee.
Carlos shuts up, because he can tell TK doesn’t want this to escalate into more teasing and get Carlos even more upset. He just doesn’t understand how they can watch TK with Isla, how his entire being focuses on her wherever she’s nearby, and still tease him about it.
TK says they tease out of love, and logically Carlos believes that, but he can’t imagine being anything but amazed by his husband’s parenting skills.
Whatever, Carlos knows TK is the best father in the world, and Isla clearly agrees. He’s watching her stare up at TK like he’s the best thing in the entire world. His husband notices her gaze, and leans down to press a kiss to her nose while tickling her side. She giggles around her toy, more drool dribbling out her mouth and onto TK’s wrist.
TK just kisses her more.
- - -
5. Eleven Months
Carlos feels like he should probably be jealous when Isla’s first word is “Dada” instead of “Papa”, but he can’t be. TK deserves it.
The universe has had it out for him, as it always has (at least there’s been no more near-death-experiences), and he’s missed almost all of Isla’s milestones so far. Her first real laugh, the first time she rolled over, the first time she sat independently and even the first time she crawled. TK has been away at work for every single one. He cried when Carlos showed him the video of her crawling, wiggling across the floor to Carlos’ mom. He tried to pass it off as happy tears, but Carlos knew him too well for that and had felt so unexplainably guilty. It wasn’t like he was going to actively stop their child from learning and growing, but he can never escape the need to fix things for his husband.
So when they’re out for brunch one random Saturday, and TK is taking too long to cut up her pancake and give her another bite, Isla slams her hands on the tray of her highchair and exclaims “Dada!” in the most pissed-off little eleven-month-old voice. And Carlos feels nothing but pure joy.
TK freezes, and the piece of pancake falls off Isla’s little pink fork, and he looks at Carlos like he thinks he might be hallucinating.
“I think your daughter’s hungry, Dada.” Carlos says, smirking at his husband and trying to act like he’s not about to start sobbing in public at the slightest bit of provocation. The baby in question is indeed glaring at TK and making grabby hands for her fork like she’s going to starve any second.
TK hurriedly stabs up the pancake again and hands the fork over, all while wiping furiously at his cheeks as tears pour out of his eyes. Once Isla is happily wielding her own utensil, Carlos reaches out and grabs his husband's hand, squeezing it tightly.
A sob bursts out of TK before he can stop it, and Carlos just keeps holding on.
“I thought I was going to miss everything.” TK finally admits, once he’s pulled himself together just a bit. “I felt like I was going to be like my dad.”
“That would never happen.” Carlos insists. “It was some bad luck with things you couldn’t have predicted. I know you never missed anything on purpose, and you never would.”
TK gives him a wobbly smile, and squeezes his hand again. Isla holds out her empty fork to him.
“Dada?”
- - -
6. One Year
After Isla starts talking, everyone suddenly becomes incredibly focused on when she’ll take her first steps.
Everyone.
Literally every person they know is doing everything in their power to convince the baby to walk, and she’s having none of it. Toys, treats, games, none of them seem to matter enough to make her walk instead of crawl.
Even Carlos is getting a little bit impatient, because the girl is pulling herself up to stand on everything and yet she never takes those first steps. He’s got a million videos on his phone of her standing on wobbly legs, possibly about to do it, before plonking back on to her bottom.
The only one who seems unconcerned (besides Isla herself) is TK. He teases their friends when they sit on the floor making faces at the unimpressed baby, and rolls his eyes when Owen starts rambling about how TK was practically running at eight months old.
“She’s fine, dad.” TK says, walking over to pluck Isla from the ground where she’s sitting next to her Grandpa, pulling happily at the grass after another failed attempt from him to have her walk. They’re all at Grace and Judd’s place, having a barbeque, and Isla has spent the whole afternoon trying to chase after the twins and Charlie, crawling as fast as she can. “She’ll walk when she’s ready.”
He carries her over to Carlos, who’s helping Grace set out the salads and sides on a few tables. Carlos grabs a few blueberries from a fruit tray, squishing them between his fingers before handing them over, one at a time, to his daughter.
“Say ‘Thank you, Papa.’” TK prompts her as she starts stuffing her mouth.
“T’ank ‘ou, Papa.” Isla says, accepting the last blueberry. Izzy, Evie and Charlie go sprinting by a second later, and Isla squirms in TK’s arms. He puts her down, placing her on her feet and watching as she falls to her knees and starts speed-crawling through the grass.
“TK–” Owen starts.
“Get over it, Dad.” He interrupts. “She’s perfect.”
-
Later that night, TK is holding their daughter again as they prepare to leave. He and Isla are saying endless goodbyes while Carlos attempts to determine if they have actually managed to gather everything they came here with. Babies are too small to need so much stuff, and yet.
Isla starts squirming in TK’s arms again, and when he moves to put her down, Carlos wants to tell him to just keep her out of the way for one more minute. He doesn’t want to accidentally drop something or step on her little hands as she crawls around underfoot.
But, instead of dropping to her hands and feet when TK sets her down, she stays standing. And then takes one slightly wobbly step, and then another, and then she’s toddling her way over to Carlos like she's been doing it her whole life.
The hallway is dead silent, and Carlos is frozen where he stands. When Isla reaches him, she stumbles a little, but manages to catch herself on Carlos’ leg. She grabs at his jeans and peers up at him.
“Papa, up.” She says. Carlos is still in shock and just stares at her like she’s not real. “Up!”
He shakes himself out of his reverie when she insists and leans down, lifting her onto his hip. She rests her head on his shoulder and grabs on to his shirt with a tiny hand. Apparently all the incentive she needed to start walking was a hug from her papa.
Carlos’ own legs are feeling a little wobbly.
“Told you, Dad.” TK says, breaking the silence. Carlos looks over at him, and he’s beaming like he’s just won the lottery, while a couple tears fall from his eyes. “She was just waiting for the right moment.”
- - -
7. Eighteen Months
On Carlos’ first day back at work since Isla was born, he doesn’t understand how parents leave their kids for hours at a time. He doesn’t understand how TK has been doing it for over a year. He misses her so much his chest literally aches.
He just spent eighteen months at home, spending every day with the most perfect baby in the world. Then today came around, and now he’s back in his boring cubicle at the police station, investigating a series of robberies at local delis. And they’re not even stealing money, they are literally just stealing ham.
Carlos is starting to suspect a very clever pack of stray dogs.
TK took this whole week off to stay home with Isla. They wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have some sort of breakdown about not being with Carlos all the time, before her first real day without either of them next week.
She’s not even going to daycare or into the care of a stranger, Carlos’ mom is going to watch her twice a week when his and TK’s shifts overlap, but Carlos is still full of immense anxiety about it.
Clearly they should’ve been more worried about him having a breakdown, instead of Isla.
-
He’s wallowing quite comfortably in his misery when he’s started by a shout from across the room.
“Papa!”
Carlos’ head flies up, and he sees TK standing across the bullpen beaming at him as Isla waves frantically with both hands. TK sets her down when her wiggling becomes too much and she bolts across the room before anyone can stop her. (It may have taken her a minute to walk, but after that she moved on to almost-sprinting alarmingly fast.)
Carlos gets out his chair just in time to catch her and scoop her up in his arms. She wraps her little arms around his neck and squeezes tight.
“Miss you, Papa.” She says.
“I missed you too, mija.” He replies, fighting back tears. He will not cry in front of everyone in the station, even when his heart is about to burst out of his chest.
TK catches up to them, and Carlos moves their daughter so he can kiss his husband, who is still smiling at him.
“Thought you might need a little pick-me-up on your first day back.” TK says.
“You’re amazing.” Carlos says, because he truly can’t think of adequate words to express his feelings right now. At least not without bursting into tears, which again, he won’t be doing. Hopefully.
“I know.”
Carlos just has to kiss him again, and this time Isla ends up squished between them. TK laughs when she pats at their cheeks, clearly displeased that the attention is not all on her.
Carlos falls even more in love.