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I'm doing my best, please don't cry!

Summary:

set during the time when Oliver and Mark were making their way back to earth from Thraxa, Mark finds out suddenly being a big brother isn't easy at all!

his ptsd or whatever isnt helping but he'll ignore that!!

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

It was hard to comprehend, now sitting in the space ship with a baby in his arms. He looked down at his face, the small, pudgy, purple face. So innocent, with large magenta eyes.

"You have your mothers eyes," Mark murmured, just to fill the quiet space. Other than his purple skin, and his apparent rapid growth, the baby didn't look like anything other than a human— or he supposed Viltrumite baby. But it had his mothers eyes, large and pink.

The baby made a noise, reaching a chubby hand up and touching Mark's chin. He smiled a little, pushing the hand away but letting him play with his fingers.

Mark wasn't sure how to feel. there was so many emotions going through his head, so much had happened since he first saw the baby that he'd yet to actually process them. Before he could, the other Viltrumite's had arrived and then his father was being taken away, then he was helping Thraxa rebuild — but now there was a silence.

While he'd helped out a few times, Andressa or one of his other caretakers had always been there. Now it was just him and the baby.

He didn't hate him, he couldn't. This child was completely innocent, but he couldn't help but think about his fathers words to him.

'What's seventeen more years? I could always start again! Make another kid!'

At the time, Mark could barely focus on the words as his bones were broken, and after while he was healing he thought— or maybe hoped— that they were just words designed to hurt him. But he was holding the product of it. The other kid.

The baby didn't even have a name, and Mark understood that it was part of Andressa's culture but it felt strange to keep referring to him as simply 'the baby.'

"Your mom said that on Thraxa, kids name themselves… what would you name yourself, hm?" He asked, smiling down at the baby as he gurgled and giggled. He couldn't answer, of course, but Mark couldn't help but laugh as well. the baby had an infectious little giggle.

"I can do this," He whispered to him, nuzzling his nose into his soft baby hair. He could do this.


Changing diapers sucked, Mark decided. He tried not to think about it as he went through the steps, focusing on the way the baby looked around the room with it's big eyes.

He slid the new diaper on and picked him up as he tossed the old one away.

"There you go, feel better?" He asked, and the baby ignored him as he squirmed. Mark sighed and set him down in the cradle that the Thraxan's gave him in the ship.

He could do this.


"Ah! Man…" Mark huffed, wincing as he felt the splat of the baby spit up. disgusting. Luckily he had a bunch of cloth for him to puke on, but it was still disgusting every time.

"Is Thraxan baby food that yucky, hm?" Mark joked as he tossed the cloth away and cleaned him up. He wasn't sure what the food was, but as long as it kept the baby fed and happy he didn't really care.

The baby let out a squeal, clapping his hands at Mark's discomfort. Mark rolled his eyes and poked him on the nose. "Ah ha ha. Don't look so happy, baby."

Of course, the baby ignored him and continued to giggle. Mark hummed and set him down on is knee, bouncing it just a bit and watching the way the baby squeal with joy. Baby's are so easily entertained, Mark was discovering. Or maybe this specific baby was. He hadn't been around that many babies.

He poked his tummy and laughed as the baby whined, squirming away.

"Oh? Is baby ticklish?" He grinned, poking his tummy again. The baby reacted with a shriek, a giggle and a hand slapping at his hand.

Mark laughed, and tried to tickle more. "I'll take that as a yes!"

He stopped when the baby got a hold of his finger, and with all his baby strength and held on tightly.

"Ow! Baby let go! I'm sorry!" He yelped, trying to to pull his hand away, and that got the baby to laugh again.

Little shit.

"God, you are a strong baby!" He finally got his hand free and he waved his hand to ease the pain. Baby laughed.

Mark couldn't help but smile anyways, the baby was just so cute. He liked seeing him so happy.

He could do this.


Mark couldn't do this.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in that space ship, but he couldn't do this anymore.

"Please stop," Mark begged, rocking the baby in his arms.

The shrill, shrieking cries didn't stop. The baby's purple face was flushed, all scrunched up and puffy, tears rolling down cheeks. He was squirming, hiccuping on sobs too big for his little body.

"I don't know what you want!" He looked around desperately, even though he knew he was alone in the ship. His diaper was changed, he had been fed,burped, he had napped, he had done everything he could think of and the baby wouldn't stop screaming.

So much screaming— the sounds of a train going by and car horns blaring and more screaming. People running, buildings falling, the echo of chaos being unleashed and more screaming, so much screaming and its all his fault—

"Fuck! Stop it! Stop please just stop— Shut up! What do I do? What do you want?" Mark felt his eyes burn, the image of the baby's crying face getting more and more blurry. He sniffled, biting his lip.

"Please stop crying!" A tear rolling off his cheek and falling onto the baby's.

"What did I do wrong?" Mark asked, even though he knew the poor baby couldn't respond. He continued to rock the baby, he didn't know what else to do.

"I can't do this— I'm sorry you're stuck with me." Mark bit back his own sob. "But please, please stop screaming… Stop crying I can't-" his breath hitched and he had to close his eyes.

It was silent except for the sound of sobbing, at first it was both of them, Mark's desperate and tired sobs and the baby's shrieking cries… But then… A small, pudgy hand reached up and gently slapped against his cheek. Mark blinked away hot tears, looking down at the baby. The baby wasn't crying anymore. He was looking up at Mark with big pink eyes, red rimmed and puffy and sad.

Another sob bubbled up from Mark, as he brought the baby closer and rested his forehead onto his.

"I'm sorry… I'm supposed to be your big brother, and yet here I am crying as if I'm the baby…" He laughed wetly. The baby gurgled and smiled, causing his eyes to crinkle.

Something clicked. Something obvious, something he knew, but just then it became real and undeniable and true.

"I'm your big brother," he whispered.

This precious life in his arms was his brother, shared half his blood, this was his brother.

"Big brother is here, I'm sorry," He sniffled, closing his eyes, holding his brother close. How could he lose his cool like that? His poor baby brother didn't deserve that, he wasn't at fault. He was probably missing his mother.

"I'm sorry I told you to shut up, I'm sorry for crying… I'll do better..." He murmured, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

"I can do this, for you. I promise." Mark looked down at quietly gasped, the baby was holding onto marks finger, and had seemingly fallen asleep. His tiny chest slowly rising in peaceful intervals.

Mark smiled softly. He could do this. He had to, for him.

 

 

Notes:

Their relationship makes me ill, I love them!!

I had a bit of a different plot ready, but this works too. maybe i'll still weite that one, so maybe a second chapter? I don't know. probably not. This was fun to write though!
Baby Oliver is just soo cute!! Poor Mark, he's always going through it!!

Comments are very much appreciated <3