Chapter Text
When the gentle nudge didn’t work, the shadow tugged on the large, pointed red ear that stuck out on the pillow. It twitched, jerking from the shadow’s grip. Rolling its eyes, the specter gave the ear another sharp tug.
Alastor started awake, still with enough presence of mind not to disturb his exhausted bedmate but with enough force to make the shadow retreat. His gaze met the shadow’s and he cocked a questioning brow. It swirled once quickly around his head before gesturing towards the baby monitor on his bedside table. There was a pleased gurgling coming from it.
“Ah. Awake is he?” The emphatic nodding from the shadow confirmed what his ears were already telling Alastor. He did his best to slide from the bed without waking Charlie, she let out a sleepy grumble, reaching for him with an unintelligible question. He pushed his warm pillow into her arms, brushing some of her hair away from her face as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, love, I’ll be right back.”
That was a lie, but he pointed his shadow towards the bed; it enthusiastically accepted his offer and curled around Charlie’s sleeping form. As soon as it was around her, she relaxed with a contented sigh, and the shadow let out a sound that Alastor could only describe as purring. He rolled his eyes as he moved into the small room that had been set up as a nursery just off of their own and towards the crib. The tiny creature inside was burbling happily, one fist shoved securely into its mouth, legs kicking out in all directions.
Their son. His son. Small, pointed blonde ears stuck up from tufts of thick, messy hair, huge purple eyes shone, and the light splotches on his cheeks almost vanished in his dimples as he grinned at Alastor with a pink gummed mouth. There was the barest hint of white points beginning to show in front. His little red onesie, with ‘Radio Nerd’ emblazoned on the front, hid his fluffy tail and the smattering of spots that decorated his hips and back. A little fawn indeed. Something Alastor had always been joking about when he said he was going to give Charlie one, but here they were.
Landry was, by all accounts, a happy baby (as if there was any doubt given his mother). At six months he was starting to become more mobile, something that didn’t bode well for the future peace of the hotel. The small boy already had a great deal to say about everything – true, only in an incomprehensible collection of sounds and ear-splitting shrieks, but it was still a wide variety – and had no qualms about sharing any of it (those would be his father’s genes). Luckily every single one of the long-term residents was over the moon about spending time with him. Alastor was less enthused with some of his babysitting options, but Charlie wouldn’t allow him to ban any of their friends from the task.
Of course, she hadn’t walked in on Angel Dust holding the baby as he practiced his pole routine – yes, Landry had been shrieking happily as the spider demon spun and twirled, but that didn’t make Alastor any happier about it. Nor had she seen the porn star allowing the baby to use a brand new dildo as a teething toy – the Radio Demon was fairly impressed that Angel had been able to scream a defense as he sprinted around the hotel. It spoke volumes for his lung capacity. They’d agreed not to tell Charlie about that one, mainly because neither wanted the lecture.
Niffty was nearly always a last pick since Charlie had found her showing their four-month-old the ins and outs of roach hunting. That part itself would have been less concerning if she hadn’t also armed Landry with his own needle. The tiny cyclops was now only permitted to babysit if another demon was with her.
Husk was currently in trouble for smearing the baby’s gums with whiskey the other day in an attempt to help with teething pains. Alastor could have told him that was a bad idea. He’d already suggested it to Charlie and she’d given him a stern lecture that, while she was sure that was fine while Alastor was alive, it was no longer allowed for childcare. The deer demon had been given a pamphlet to read about teething, followed by a solid thwack to the back of his head when he suggested that, if they couldn’t put the whiskey on the baby's gums for teething, could they put it on Charlie’s breasts? If Landry didn’t like it Alastor would be very happy to clean it up, and he had just the bottle for it. She was unamused.
Vaggie only stopped by on occasion. She’d moved out, not after she and Charlie had stopped seeing each other, but when she’d opened the door to the office and found the pair doing some very nonbusiness-related things against the bookshelf. Alastor couldn’t blame her. It was almost too bad as she was very good with the baby.
And then there was Landry’s grandfather, the fallen angel, the king of hell. Lucifer Morningstar. Tense was perhaps the best way to describe the relationship between the two men. Oh, he adored his grandson, he just wasn’t pleased about who the father was. While the short angel was perhaps the best at caring for the tiny baby, he also had a habit of badmouthing Alastor while doing it. Charlie had put her foot down multiple times in that regard, but so far it had done very little to curtail the behavior.
So right now all of their babysitters were only permitted to watch the baby in pairs. Which made things difficult to organize, and had resulted in Alastor taking his son to several overlord meetings, not to mention the number of radio broadcasts the tiny fawn had sat in on.
“Bit late for you to be up, chum. Hungry are we?” small hands reached for Alastor, the burbling transforming into happy shrieks as his father lifted him from the crib. “Shh, shhh. Let’s at least get to the kitchen before you start that. The acoustics are better there anyway, you’ll love it.”
The shadows wrapped around the pair, dissolving them from the bedroom and depositing them in the kitchen. With his shadow busy spooning the princess of hell, Alastor was forced to split his attention between holding his son up and blowing raspberries at the small boy as tiny fists grabbed and pulled at various parts of his face – it was rather uncomfortable to have one’s nostrils pulled with force – as he attempted to direct his shadow minions on warming up a bottle. Apparently, they were better in battle situations than as kitchen help.
He finally had to resort to holding his son with one arm, his small head and arms over Alastor’s shoulder as he prepared the bottle with the other hand.
“You don’t say.” The baby in his arms gurgled happily, one pudgy hand reaching up to grab a hank of hair and giving it a sharp tug. “Yes, very clever of you. That’s a very nice grip you’re developing.”
He’d taken to talking to the baby as if they were having an intelligent conversation. Landry would be learning to talk soon enough, and Alastor had no intention of stunting his child’s development by treating him as if he was anything less than brilliant.
A high-pitched, pterodactyl screech had Alastor’s ears pinning back flat against his skull with a wince. “Yes, well if I see that annoying television I’ll make sure to pass that along, I just don’t think it will have the same gravitas coming from me.”
A quick flick of his wrist had the little boy cradled in the crook of his arm, the finally ready bottle held in his other hand. But when he gently pressed the tip of the bottle to his son’s mouth it was shoved roughly away with an annoyed cry and some wiggling.
“Yes, I’m perfectly aware that you’d prefer your food directly from the source — trust me, I’m also a fan. Arguably that’s the reason you exist, but I digress. Your teeth are only going to be getting larger and sharper, and you’re already causing your mother some discomfort. So we should get you used to alternative ways of getting that delicious liquid we both enjoy so much. Additionally, I don’t share very well, and I already know how to use my teeth.”
His son looked supremely unimpressed with the explanation as to why his meal was being presented in a hard plastic bottle with a rubber nipple rather than a warm, soft breast.
“Look, it’s just for nights. Your mother needs to sleep, you’re very demanding.” There was an answering gurgle and a loud raspberry as Landry gripped his tiny hooves, pulling them up to his face and shoving one into his mouth. “Lovely. Please don’t make me wake her up and explain I am unable to care for my own offspring. We agree that I worked out the diaper thing, right?”
Unperturbed by his father’s predicament, the little fawn struggled to roll over, shoving against the hard planes of the chest he was being held against. Alastor recognized the beginning of the frustrated, angry whine that was coming from his son, it could only mean one thing – a hangry tantrum was coming.
“Dear me, you are a handful tonight, aren’t you? I bet you never do this to your mother.” Alastor began to hum softly to his son, rocking the little boy while gently patting his bottom. Fat, wet tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes, his tiny face scrunched up as he prepared to let out his impotent rage. When his tiny mouth opened to release the scream, Alastor shoved the nipple of the bottle directly into the opening.
Landry blinked in surprise but closed his lips around the intrusion and sucked. Alastor let out a grateful exhale as his son latched onto the bottle and began to attack it with a single-mindedness that conveyed how hungry he’d been. Tiny hands pressed to the sides of the bottle as if he wanted to hold it.
“I know, you’re a very big boy, but how about I help for now, hm?” Landry’s tiny face watched Alastor as he drained the bottle, apparently content for the moment. “Yes, I’m also reasonably quiet when I have something of that shape to suck on. Your mother is generally the one making noise at that point. And I’ve been meaning to tell you how pleased I am that you’re sleeping in your own room now. That couch in the office is not all that comfortable for what we were using it for. But I doubt you want to hear about any of that.”
The bottle popped from the baby’s mouth with a small, wet sound. The little shadow minions were much better at this part and whisked the empty container away as they positioned a cloth over one of Alastor’s shoulders. It only took a few pats before a deceptively loud burp sounded from over his shoulder.
“I’m sure you feel better after that!” The cloth was gone and the little boy was cradled back against his father’s chest, but no matter what he did, his son wouldn’t settle. No amount of rocking, humming, or talking did a thing to calm the infant – he stayed resolutely awake; wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Alastor let out a huge yawn, tiny ears flicked towards him, and Landry tilted his head up at his father with a questioning gurgle. “You are a demon, you know. Alright, let's try something else.”
It wasn’t far to the office and its wide comfortable couch, and Landry was more than happy to examine all of the scenery as it went past. Once inside the office, Alastor securely closed the door before unfastening his shirt one-handed. He lay back on the couch, his head pillowed on the armrest as he placed his son against the newly exposed fluffy patch of fur in the middle of his chest.
Landry let out an excited burble, grabbing two large handfuls of the downy fur, but not pulling before snuggling his face down into the natural pillow, letting out an infectious giggle as it tickled his face. Alastor watched the boy’s eyelids get heavy before he yawned hugely and nuzzled into the fur. It was barely a minute more before the child was asleep, puffs of warm air the only thing disturbing the fur.
“Just like your mother.” Alastor chuckled softly, one large hand over the baby’s back as the other cupped his bottom, keeping him securely in place while acting like a blanket. He’d move in a few minutes when he was sure the baby wouldn’t wake up. His own eyes fluttered closed, heavy with sleep. Just a minute or two, then they’d move.
~HH~
Charlie woke when the sun broke through the drapes, hitting her face and pulling her from sleep. She snuggled into the soft mass that smelled like Alastor. It took her a long moment to realize that, one, that wasn’t her partner, and two, she’d woken on her own, not to the sound of a baby. She sat up and Alastor’s shadow fell from around her. Her breasts ached, which meant there had to be a hungry baby around here somewhere.
But she was the only one in the bed, and there was no baby in the crib.
“Alright. Where are they?” she inquired of the shadow. It tilted its inky head, either thinking or listening before grabbing her hand and pulling her from the room.
The office door opened without a sound, and Charlie peered her head around it. The sight before her made her heart melt. She had to clamp her hands over her mouth to prevent a sound from escaping and waking the pair asleep inside. She stepped into the office, closing the door softly before crouching down next to Alastor and pressing a light kiss to his nose. His eyes blinked open blearily, but he smiled when she came into focus.
“Morning.” his voice was thick with sleep, but she could still hear his smile in it.
“You should have woken me.”
“Not a chance, you needed sleep. And we had a little bonding time.”
“I see that. Landry seems to be enjoying my pillow.”
“Still yours. I’ll save it for you later if you like.”
A happy gurgle interrupted Charlie before she could start her next sentence. Her son’s huge purple eyes vanished as he yawned, before reaching for his mother. She scooped her son up, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Go shower and get coffee while I change and feed this little tyrant.”
“I could wait for you to shower…”
“How about I get Dad to watch him tonight and we can have a bath tonight?”
“Sold.”
“Who knew the Radio Demon could be domestic?”
“Tell no one.” Charlie giggled as he vanished into a swirl of shadow, his huge smile the last thing to disappear.
“Your daddy is very silly and very sweet. But that’s our little secret.” She stood, giving her son a light tap on his nose as he happily shoved handfuls of hair into his mouth. “Oh, that looks very yummy, but how about a real breakfast?”
She continued humming and speaking to her son as they left the office to start their day.