Chapter Text
A Saturday night, before the dawn of a Sunday morning. For a long time he did not have those endless nights but Franky let himself be brought to one of those big parties at the “Tamanya”, one of the most known places among the nightclubs in Berlint. He stopped counting the quantity of alcohol he drank at the 4th pint and the cigarettes he smoked when his package was empty. He realized he was probably too old to behave like this. He was only remembering that cute girl dancing under the lights.
“Damn it. I should have asked her to dance with me… even if I am sure she would have not accepted.”
He was tipsy, but enough sober to find his way home, strolling in the dark side streets. It was probably garbage day, given by the amount of trash and garbage cans outside. Some stray cats were enjoying leftovers in the obscurity. Franky did not need a lot of time for his feet to bump into a massive carboard box, which for unknown reasons, made him upset.
“Fucking trash box…” he griped.
He was about to give a massive foot kick in the box when his blurry eyes noticed a small wrapped bulk was moving inside. He was relieved, thinking he avoided hitting an abandoned puppy, as it was usual for people to leave them in boxes to be adopted.
“Humans are so heartless.” He sighed.
He picked up the body, waiting for a pup or a kitten or anything furry to be inside.
A scream. A baby scream. And another scream. From Franky this time.
“HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!” he yelled.
Under the low lights, with a lot of instinct, he cradled the baby until the street fell in silence again.
“Ok… let’s wait your parents… your mother should not be far shouldn’t she?”
The man was standing in the dark alley for a certain amount of time, the infant still in his arms, until he realized what he was doing. Suddenly, he was very sober, looking around him to check if anyone would claim the small being.
“NO IT MAKES NO SENSE! What parent would leave their newborn in a box on a wet obscure path even if it is to pick them up later?” he asked himself.
He looked at this watch. 2 AM. Almost. He was conscious enough to know that this was not the time, nor the place for such a small child. His place was in a comfy little bed or at least something safer than they were.
“Ok. I’ll bring you to my home. We will see later.” he told the baby, in a very serious way.
Lucky for them, they were not very far from Franky’s location. At this time, the probability of meeting one of his mutuals was very low. Once back, he pushed his bed against the wall, making a baby-basket with pillows and some clothes and to make sure he would not fall. With all his kindness, he put the small body in it and told him gently to not move.
Looking at him being so peaceful eased him a bit. Franky wanted to rest too. Yet he had a strange feeling.
“Wait… does it make me… a kidnapper? Did I steal that child?” he asked himself. He shook his head and tried to be rational. “No, I am not a kidnapper. I saved that baby from danger, he was all alone in a box on a dark street, I saved him, I am not a child kidnapper.”
Looking at him, he was sure it was not a newborn but he was probably five or six months old. Baby was sleeping. For now. However, once awaken, he would probably need to be fed, diapered and reassured. Past 3 AM and Franky was still up, intensely rummaging through his bric-a-brac to tinker together a baby bottle or anything useful. But his atelier was only full of sharp metal pieces, screws, dangerous tools and spare parts. Nothing adapted to a baby here.
Looking over his collections, he gave up. He was dismayed.
“I have no choice I guess. I will have to call that dumbass.” Franky admitted.