Work Text:
The steady rush of customers died down to a halt. The owner signalled to her disgruntled employees that she was taking her piece time.
A tray with two cups rattled on the small table in the corner, and Crowley raised an eyebrow as if to ask, ‘Really?’ Nina countered his cheek with an eye roll, daring him to voice it, exhaustion only rivalled by her half-brother, a first-time dad.
Crowley gave in, wordlessly raising his six shots of espresso to his lips. Nina accepted the taciturn gesture of gratitude for what it was.
She leaned in, eyes assuming, “So, how are things with Vivian?”
“Eugh,” He swayed his head side to side, “I dunno... I know motherhood is hard, but she’s not seeming to connect with Muriel, or really trying to. Maybe she’s still a bit in shock—or something. But she’s eventually gonna have to accept that this is our life now.”
She sighed and wiped her brow, “Do you think things would be so tense if you didn’t have a baby?” Well, no fucking duh, Sherlock.
When Nina found out about their unplanned pregnancy, she wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she seemed to accept it faster than Vivian had.
“Maybe?” Crowley shrugged, “I mean, this was what I eventually wanted, but I’m starting to wonder if she would’ve ever come around to the idea of kids…” A solemn look washed over his drained face. “Maybe she just needs time.” She’ll come around to it, I’m sure.
Her eyebrows canted inwards in sympathy, eyes seeing through his carefully placed shades. “How’re you feeling about it?”
Resting his elbows on the high top, he buried his face in his hands. “I mean, it’s hard as fucking hell. I’ve never been this exhausted, and I’m scared it’s always going to be this goddamn hard. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. And every time I try suggesting shit to Vivian, she takes it personally, but I just want what’s best for our daughter.”
She gave him a look, “Don’t tell her how to be a mother as a somewhat man and then be surprised that she ‘takes it personally.’” She emphasised her point with air quotes.
He shook his head insistently. “Look, I’m not trying to tell her how to be a mum, but I guess it probably comes off that way. I just think we should be talking about how we’re raising her. I’m not a fan of the ‘cry-it-out’ method, for one, but she doesn’t think it’s the biggest deal. What, is there not like some sort of I don't know—‘suggestion box’ for parents to use while they figure things out?”
Nina snorted, “Only you, Ant, would like the idea of having a suggestion box. I think the word you’re looking for is communicating.” Something we’re pretty shit at, apparently.
“Yeah, that.” He raised his cup to his lips.
She nudged him, “Are you willing to try out the things you ‘suggest’ yourself?”
He scowled as he thudded his half-empty cup down. “Of course I am! I’m usually already doing it or trying it when I suggest shit. The guys at the shop tell me things that worked with their kids. I’m willing to try or do anything. It doesn’t seem like she feels… the same.”
“How so?” Her eyes were scrutinising, honing in on his features.
“She almost…” he shrugged, “gives up when Muriel’s crying. She tries a few things, and if she’s still crying, then she sets her down and tries to ignore it.”
Nina’s shoulders raised. “Maybe she’s overwhelmed? It’s gotta be hard being alone with a baby for the first time while you’re at work.” Yeah, but will it ever get easier or better?
He shrugged, “That could be it. I try to do as much as I can when I’m home with them. Take some of the night feedings, wash her bottles, change her diapers, get dinner, tidy up, all that. But I still feel guilty having to leave them every morning.” I wish I could swap places with her. I don’t want to miss out on all her milestones.
Leaning in, she gave him a look. “Are you feeling overwhelmed?”
Her compassionate look breached his defences as he nodded wordlessly.
He held his head in his hands, evading her discerning gaze. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I thought this would be a little more… I don’t know, intuitive? That she’d respond well to us and we’d know how to get her to stop crying. I mean, how fucking idiotic was that?”
A sympathetic smile graced her exasperated lips. “You know, if you both need a break, Maggie and I could take her for a little. Or help around your flat.”
His eyebrows raised, “Really?”
“Oh come on,” she scoffed, “don’t act like I haven’t offered this before.”
“It just felt like something people say.” He flitted a small simper.
Head low with a subtle smile, she rolled her eyes. “You should know by now, I don’t just say things for the hell of it.”
“Yeah, yeah. You also said this all was a ‘stupid idea and soooo irresponsible.’” He mocked her voice, gaining a small chuckle from both of them.
She grinned, “I mean, it kinda was… but that doesn’t mean you haven’t stepped up to the plate. I think Muriel’s lucky to have you.”
He crumbled a serviette in his hands. “But I can’t get her to stop crying, so clearly I’m doing something wrong.”
Nina cupped his hands with hers, “She’s probably colicky. Just keep trying every little dumb idea you have. Don’t give up on her, or yourself. You’re doing a great job. I know you’re doing what you can to give her a good life. All she needs is you. The rest will fall into place.”
He sniffled, voice wavering, “You think so?” What if I can’t be the dad she needs?
She squeezed his hands. “I know so. You were the brother I needed growing up. You’ll be the dad she needs, too.” You better be right, Nina.
Every attempt to lull Muriel to sleep proved to be fruitless. The late hours of the night drew nearer, exhaustion straining the household.
Vivian threaded her fingers through her long brown hair. “Her crying is driving me INSANE! I can’t get even a moment of peace and silence.”
Muriel lay in her crib, kicking her blanket, hands reaching up as she grabbed at the air. Trying to reach for the stars, little one?
An idea popped into Crowley’s mind, recalling something a coworker recommended. “Hey, why don’t I take her on a drive? It’s supposed to help with colic.” Is she going to think I’m telling her she’s not doing a good enough job?
She threw her arms up in the air. “Yeah, sure, whatever. As long as she’s out of my hair, I don’t care where you go or what you do. Just leave me out of it.” Is she mad at me?
He turned towards his fussing daughter. “Okay, my little Rie Rie, looks like you’re stuck with me.”
As he picked her up, she reached for her mum, trying to launch herself out of his arms.
He tutted, “Ah, come on. I’m not that bad. Just you watch, one day you’ll love rides in the Bentley as much as I do. Let's give your mum a break.”
She whined, hands balling in fists. “Shhhh, it's okay. You got me, and I got you. That’s all we need right now.” If I can be enough for you.
As he bounced her on his hip, her wailing persisted. “Shh, shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll figure out what’s making you cry.” He sniffed her bottom, looked to see if she was making any mouth movements or any signs of hunger, pressed the back of his hand against her forehead to feel for her temperature, and checked to see if there were hairs twisted around her toes or fingers cutting off circulation. None of his investigations led to a clear answer. Maybe she really is just tired and needs the white noise.
Vivian rolled her narrowed eyes, “Will you just take her already?”
His shoulders raised as he patted Muriel’s back. “Sorry, yeah. We’ll head out. Go lie down, I’ve got it from here.”
She scoffed, “Like I couldn’t do it the way you do? And I will do what I damn well please!”
She’s probably just as worried about being what Muriel needs as I am. Just shows it differently.
“Oh come on, I didn’t mean it like that!” How do I always manage to say things the wrong way?
Storming out of the room, she slammed the door shut, yelling, “Just go!”
Crowley winced. It’s my fault, I should’ve left already. She’s clearly overstimulated.
With a sigh, he set her down in her crib and rushed to warm a bottle of breast milk, grab the diaper bag, a blanket, and Muriel. “Alrighty, looks like this is our first solo father-daughter adventure, kiddo.” She continued to cry, but she was a little quieter as she looked up at him.
He smiled, “Just you wait, I think you’ll like where I take you. Or at least the night drive.”
After setting his baby down, he fastened the car seat buckles. Since she was only four months old, the car seat faced backwards and had a small mirror positioned so he could check on her in the rearview’s reflection.
He drove off into the night, Muriel’s cries growing louder as she thrashed around in her car seat, spitting out her dummy. From the driver’s seat, he reached around and offered his fingers for her little hand to grasp onto. Her tiny fingers wrapped around his index finger, pulling his hand around with her antsy movement. In hopes of distracting and calming her down, he hummed an unknown melody.
Unsuccessful, he suggested, “Hmm, maybe some music will help? What do you think, Rie Rie?” Turning her head against the seat, she continued to cry.
Remembering the way she’d kick in Vivian’s belly anytime he played it, he swapped out the CD for The Best of Queen. Her cries only worsened. “Geez, okay. Not a Queen fan. We’ll get you to come around to him.” Maybe she kicked because she had no other way of escaping Freddie Mercury.
Shifting the gear to drive, he switched the sound system to the radio and let it play classical music. Her cries grew softer, but she continued to fret and toss around in her car seat. As he took the back roads, he flitted between the stations, listening carefully to see which artist would best allay her tears. She was impartial to Radiohead, but passionately loathed Chris Brown. She didn’t mind Madonna, but wanted nothing to do with Leon Jackson. Yeesh, can’t blame her with that one, even if he is a Scot.
He was gambling on a fickle game of skill and chance, edging closer to ultimately soothing her. Almost ready to shut the music off altogether, he tried one more station. The bland strumming of an acoustic guitar filled the Bentley. He rolled his eyes, unimpressed with the sounds of a country wannabe. The song was absurdly cheesy with that irritating American twang that made him want to jump into oncoming traffic. Right as he was about to shut the radio off, he realised her crying had finally stopped.
He glanced up at the stars visible from the windshield. “Why, why this? Out of all the music the world has to offer, this is the one that calms you down?” Bet the stars thought they were pretty clever with that one.
The lyrics were easier to hear in the refreshing silence.
‘I come home crying,
And you hold me tight,
And grab the keys,
And we drive and drive,
Until we found a town far enough away.’
He glanced at her in the mirror, watching her smile faintly, balled fists releasing to open hands.
‘Staying back and watching me shine and
I didn't know if you knew,
So I'm taking this chance to say—
That I had the best day with you today.’
The melody reached its delicate end with a broadcaster announcing, “And that was ‘The Best Day’ by the up-and-coming internationally renowned artist Taylor Swift! Watch out, she’s unstoppable! Who knows what else she’ll do! Up next, we’re going to listen to another song from her Fearless album, released last year. This one’s called ‘Breathe’, so take a deep breath in and enjoy, folks.”
The next tune was calmer and lulled Muriel to sleep. Oh, finally. Was wondering if her head would pop off before she finished screaming. He was sure her little fired-up lungs appreciated the break as much as his ears did.
After another half hour, they arrived at North Berwick Harbour, parking close enough that he could see the pier. He twisted in his seat, fondly watching her chest rise and fall peacefully. Tentatively, he unbuckled Muriel, careful not to wake her. He bundled her in his coat, cradling her neck as he held her. As he strolled up the pier, he banked on the sounds of the waves to soothe her back to sleep if she woke.
He perched on the ledge of the deserted dock, eyes drawn to the thick clouds moving briskly as the winds picked up.
Little Muriel opened her eyes, stirring against his chest. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just you and me. Thought I’d take you the closest I could to where I used to go during uni when I wanted an escape, to get away from it all.” Maybe you needed to get away, too.
His baby fussed more, so he caressed her soft face, running his pinky finger from her forehead down to the tip of her nose. “I think the clouds are starting to clear up. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever taken you to see the stars before. And what a shame that is. It’s where we all came from anyway. We’d be nothing but stardust if it weren’t for the habitable zone and evolution.”
He smiled, looking up at the stars he’d abandoned when he’d dropped out of college. I hope you can forgive me.
She turned to rest her ear against his chest, cries subsiding every time he spoke. How much can she really understand?
Returning to the sea provoked a rush of memories, all of which were too far in time and space to be claimed by the present. His thoughts ebbed and flowed with the crashing tides, emotions burgeoning in the sanctuary of the night. It was a vain effort to withhold the inner workings of his mind from the omniscient stars.
His shrouded thoughts coursed freely from his lips. “The place I used to go to was called St. Monans. It’s across the sea, too far of a drive now, but you can see a little bit of the land on the horizon.”
The life he once knew overshadowed the path forward, indelibly casting a penumbra on each irresolute step.
He kissed the top of her head. “Do you still want to hide in my jacket? You know, it’s not as blustery now, my little star.”
She bravely peeked her head out of his jacket, testing whether it was as frigid and windy as it had been a moment before.
He smiled, “See? Not so bad now, huh?” Eyes wide in awe, she peered out into the vast ocean.
“Yeah, that’s called the ocean! Big body of water. Got lots of cute little animals in it you’d love.” She looked up to her dad, seemingly intrigued by what he was saying. Or whatever she could interpret from his words.
“You know, I think one day, I’ll have to take you on a boat, so we can sail the ocean and explore the world together.” He rocked her side to side in time with the waves, and she started cooing.
His eyes crinkled, “I used to have this dream as a kid of sailing the world and only using the stars to navigate.” She tilted her head, looking up to her dad again. Lacking stability and muscle strength, her head fell back, caught by her dad’s protective hand. He supported her neck as she gazed at the starry sky above, babbling nonsense.
His hand raised to point at the same stars caught by her gaze. “Yeah! Those are stars! You know the big bright thing we see during the day that makes everything brighter? That’s called the sun, and it’s a type of star close to us. Those tiny white dots you see are also stars. And some of them are even BIGGER than our star. They only look so small cuz they’re very, very far away.” You are my sunshine in the bleak, dark unknown, little Rie Rie.
“You see that big bright one?” He guided her head towards the direction he was pointing. “That’s called the North Star, or Polaris. It’s a tristar system, meaning it’s got three stars all dancing around one another. It helps us know where to find home. It hasn’t always been our North Star, and won’t always be. Some day, a different one will take its place. Kinda cool to think, but that won’t be for another 13,000 years.” Will she always need me? Is there more in this life for us?
Muriel pointed a finger at the glowing grey crescent, prattling gibberish as she smiled.
He gasped theatrically, “Good eye, Rie Rie! That one’s called the moon. It’s a big rocky sphere that has bits of the Earth, our home, in it from a collision long ago. It likes to go around and around the Earth in circles. So we get to see it at night and even sometimes during the day. It reflects the sun's rays, making it glow. It’s pretty neat!” But none of the stars or celestial objects shines as bright as you do.
She bounced in his hold, arms shooting up, grasping at the air, as if she were attempting to hitchhike a ride with the stars across the galaxy.
Catching on to her wordless request, he stood up and walked further back on the dock. He crouched down and sprang up, tossing his giggling baby in the air. He caught her with open arms and repeated the process, exclaiming, “That’s it, Rie Rie! Reach for the stars!” Watch over her for me, will you, my stars?
She giggled as the stars gleamed down on her.
I know you’ll go far in life, I can just feel it.
Catching Muriel at last, he cradled her in his arms, rocking her gently as they looked out at the stars reflecting on the rippling water. Their eyes were drawn to a streak of fleeting light gliding across the sky. She gasped and pointed towards the beam of light.
He grinned, proud of her astute discovery. “Oh, looky there! A shooting star. Well, technically, it’s meteorite debris from Halley’s comet. I know it’s not a real shooting star, but I want to make a wish.”
He closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into her soft tuft of brown curls. “I wish-” his lips quivered, too inadequate and weak to vocalise his fears. I wish to be enough for you, for you to have the family you deserve.
“Would you look at that? There goes another one. It’s your turn to make a wish, Rie Rie!” Can I give you everything you could possibly wish for?