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David should have never agreed to this.
The air was warm and humid, the breeze pulling the sounds of screams and laughter up the steep cliff where David stood hesitantly, watching his batshit-crazy brother and, apparently, wife prepare to cliff jump.
“Daddy,” Shane whined. “Tight. Too tight.”
David looked down, his heart somewhere in his throat, at his little baby boy. Shane stood just above his knee, wearing only his swim shorts and a bright blue life vest covered in bunnies, his skin wet from the lake below and flushed from the shining sun.
David had been having fun. He had been playing with his son in the lake, helping him practise his swimming and watching him giggle every time a tiny fish swam past his little feet. His wife had been sunbathing with his sister-in-law, both laid out on a red beach towel, Yuna in a bright pink bikini that, quite frankly, should be illegal.
And then a group of teenagers had arrived at the secluded waterfall, cheerfully dumping their stuff on the opposite side of the lake before climbing up the cliff the waterfall ran down with a type of ease that showed they had done it before.
David’s face had dropped the second the first boy jumped from the edge. He hadn’t wanted to look at his wife for fear that glint of excitement and anticipation was now in her eyes. His brother—his dumb, idiotic brother—had gleefully yelled, “Next!!!”
So that led to now, on top of the cliff, standing as far from the edge as possible and holding tight to his little baby’s hand because Shane had refused to stay at the bottom with his aunt or daddy, wanting to watch his mummy jump.
“Sorry, baby,” David said, quickly relaxing his grip. “Daddy’s sorry, but don’t let go, okay?”
“Okay,” Shane replied. He wasn’t smiling, but the light in his eyes let David know he was forgiven and having fun, his eyes locked onto Yuna, who was slowly creeping closer to the edge.
Peter, the classic stereotype of a dumb little brother, cheerfully walked towards the edge with no concern whatsoever, making David wince. Only Shane’s little hand holding tightly onto his stopped him from stepping forward and yanking him—and his wife, for that matter—back from the edge.
“You sure you don’t want to join, David?” His amazing, evil wife asked, a slight smirk on her face.
“No, no, no. You just have fun, honey. Someone’s got to watch Shane.” He said, squeezing Shane’s hand for effect and trying to ignore the hit to his pride about using his three-year-old son as a shield.
“Uh-huh,” Yuna hummed, smiling in a way that meant David was definitely going to hear about it later. “Sure, darling. Nothing to do with your fear of heights?”
“I don’t have a fear of heights,” he immediately protested. “I have caution. A very healthy feeling of caution.”
Peter snorted then, turning to him with the patented little-brother smirk.
“Do you remember when you were twelve and tried to climb the ladder to the roof to get my ball back? And Mum had to climb up and rescue you because you wouldn’t climb down and you wouldn’t stop crying?”
“Shut—” David looked down at Shane, who now had his thumb in his mouth, his eyes locked on a butterfly just past the edge of the cliff. “I mean, close your mouth.”
“Your daddy’s a big wimp,” Peter told Shane gleefully, Yuna letting out a snort, her toes now touching the steep edge.
Shane blinked, his facial expression not changing, but nodded.
“Daddy’s a big wimp.” He dutifully repeated
“Baby…” David complained, offended that his three-year-old had turned on him, his wife and brother now also laughing at him.
“Here.” A disposable camera was suddenly thrown at his face, automatically letting go of Shane’s hand to catch it, fifteen years of hockey skills coming into use. “Record it for us?”
“Sure, honey,” David nodded at his wife’s request.
A pause.
“You do know that means you’ve got to come closer, hun?”
David gulped.
“Of course, dear.”
He took a slight step closer.
Yuna gave him a flat look, raising an eyebrow.
“David,” she said reproachfully.
He took another step closer.
“David,” she repeated, her tone harder.
“Darling, please…” David definitely did not whine, looking up pitifully at Yuna.
“David,” she said again.
“Fine,” he huffed, shuffling close enough that the camera would be able to catch them entering the water.
Looking behind him, he realised Shane hadn’t moved, still looking at the butterfly.
“Baby, come here.”
Shane didn’t move.
“Baby.”
Not even a head twitch.
“Shanebug.”
That got him.
Big brown eyes turned to look at David, stood still in the middle of the cliff top, the fall tall enough to break his delicate little body to pieces, and all of a sudden that was all David could see.
As if the edges of the cliff were going to rapidly shrink or reach up to grasp Shanes little ankles and pull him down to the rocky stone floor or the hard surface of the dark water, his heart jumped and all he knew was that he needed Shane next to him now. Like right now.
“Come here, baby. Stand by Daddy.”
Shane shuffled over, his clumsy little body showing no sense of fear whatsoever. He didn’t even glance at the drop beside him.
Unlike David.
David who felt like he was choking.
The edge seemed to wobble in his vision, his brain far too aware of exactly how far down the water was. The pounding of his heart drowned out the wind rushing past and the distant laughter from below. Every hair on his arms stood on end, anxiety crawling over his skin as his body prepared for a danger that wasn’t actually happening.
Then a little, warm, sticky hand pressed against the back of his knee.
And David breathed.
He didn’t know if it was the same for every father—a worldwide phenomenon that he had somehow missed the memo about—but simply having Shane near him made David braver. More settled. Stronger.
Now, David wasn’t a wimp. He would never characterise himself that way, nor would he allow anyone else to do it without an argument.
But brave?
That was a different question.
David didn’t rush towards danger. He had no interest in thrill-seeking hobbies, unlike certain people he knew. He had the occasional panic attack that could freeze him completely still and an irrational fear of heights and spiders that he tried very hard to hide.
Then a 4.8-pound baby with scrunched-up cheeks and tiny fingers, curling around his with a strength David hadn't expected, had been placed in his arms. Still sticky. Still red. Still squawking furiously at the world. So small and delicate, unable to fend for or protect himself.
And David had fallen in love.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
Not his fear.
Not his anxiety.
Not even the body-crushing dread that had followed him since childhood.
Only Shane did.
His baby.
His precious little boy who had—
GOTTEN WAY TOO CLOSE TO THE EDGE, OH FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
“SHANE!”
David’s voice came out far louder and sharper than he intended.
Shane jumped.
His little body whipped around, wide brown eyes immediately finding David’s. Those eyes had already started to water, lips turning into a pout that always led to a tantrum.
Oh, fuck.
He knew that look.
Shane had only heard Daddy’s angry voice maybe three times in his entire life.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” David immediately softened, his voice dropping into the gentle coo Shane knew. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to rush forward and grab him, but David forced himself to stay still. One sudden movement could make Shane step backwards and even though he was still a significant space away from the edge, David felt his heart skip.
“Daddy’s sorry, darling.” He slowly held out a hand. “But I need you to come back over here, okay?”
Shane didn’t move at first. He looked hesitant, his eyes flicking between David and the butterfly still fluttering near the edge. He gave the flying insect one last longing look before obediently stumbling back over, his matching bunny Crocs slapping against the uneven stone.
“David,” Yuna scolded.
She had one eyebrow raised.
“He’s nowhere near the edge. Calm down.”
David looked at her, admittedly more judgmentally than he preferred.
“This is way too high, Yuna. I should take Shane back down.”
“What?” Yuna stared at him. “David, you’re being dramatic. It’s perfectly safe. Look at him! He’s not scared.”
Both Yuna and David turned to look at Shane, who was now standing directly beside his father and staring back at them.
He sneezed.
“Okay, so he’s not scared,” David admitted. “But that’s worse! He doesn’t have a healthy caution of heights!”
Yuna raised a very judgmental eyebrow—a bit too high for David’s liking—before rolling her eyes.
“Okay, whatever, honey. Just make sure you get my good side.”
“Every side is a good side,” David answered with a wink, getting distracted from his growing fear at the sight of his wife.
He gave her a once-over, his eyes getting caught on the very thin string connecting the two pieces of fabric over her hips.
Maybe he could convince her to leave that on tonight.
Yuna let out a quiet laugh, pink lips twisting into a smirk as she tilted her head. Her mouth opened, clearly ready with a teasing remark—
“Are you done? I’m about to throw up here.”
Oh, how David hated his brother.
He threw Peter a glare. Peter just smirked back, knowing exactly what he had interrupted.
Yuna snorted and turned back towards the ledge.
“Okay, you ready to jump?” she asked Peter.
“Sophia has my will,” Peter joked, pointing towards his wife watching from the bottom. “She’s been waiting to be a single homeowner for years.”
Yuna laughed.
David scowled.
“Don’t joke about that.”
“Mama is going to jump?” Shane asked, his brow furrowing with confusion and concern, his thumb moving back towards his mouth.
David couldn’t stop himself from cooing. His hand reached down automatically, smoothing Shane’s hair at the pure cuteness radiating from his son.
“Ah, don’t worry, baby! Mummy’s going to jump into the water and then swim to the shore where you’ll be waiting.”
Yuna smiled, leaning down slightly to try and make eye contact with Shane, who, as usual, avoided her gaze.
Her enthusiastic tone seemed to soothe him, his eyes darting back towards the ledge with renewed interest.
“Uhm, you—safe? Mama’s not going to be hurt?” Shane asked carefully, still working out how to put full sentences together.
David had to physically hold back his congratulations.
Shane’s speech therapist had kindly warned him that an overwhelming amount of praise could sometimes make Shane reluctant to push himself further with his vocabulary and speaking skills. But goddamn, David wanted to tell him how well he’d done.
Shane’s speech had been a massive milestone for both him and Yuna.
Their boy had spent years barely saying anything beyond Mama and Dada. Then, only a couple months ago, he had seemingly woken up one morning and decided that speaking in full sentences was something he was capable of now, thank you very much.
Their silent little boy had suddenly started verbally demanding dinosaur nuggets, his kitten stuffie and ‘Hockey time’ a sport David didn’t even know Shane paid attention too when they watched it on the tv.
David had been stunned.
Yuna might have cried.
David definitely had.
And now, only a few weeks after turning three, Shane could speak in a way David privately considered advanced for his age.
To be fair, that might have just been parental pride talking.
“No, Mama’s not going to get hurt.” Yuna smiled softly. “I’m going to jump, land in the water, then swim to shore and give you a big hug.”
She explained each step carefully, just as she always did. Ever since reading one of the thousands of parenting articles that claimed explaining upcoming actions could help lower a child’s anxiety, Yuna had become almost obsessive about it.
David had started doing the same after seeing just how much it helped Shane.
Shane nodded. He didn’t say anything else, but his little body visibly relaxed, soothed by his mother’s words.
“Ready?” Yuna asked David, motioning towards the camera.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” he said, but lifted it anyway, making sure he had them framed perfectly. “This is high enough to…”
He looked down at Shane, who was blinking up at him with innocent brown eyes.
“…make someone go night-night.”
Yuna snorted.
She rolled her eyes, clearly refusing to take David’s very valid and very real concerns seriously.
“If you land on your neck, maybe. Come on, honey. This height isn’t going to make any adult go to bed, even without the water.” A pause, “Maybe.”
“If you say so. But if I have to plan a… permanent bedtime for someone, I’m saying ‘I told you so’!”
“Feel free, sweetheart,” Yuna responded dryly.
Peter suddenly erupted into a snort, looking at both of them with complete incredulity.
“You two chuckleheads do realise you’re going to have to explain death to him eventually?”
“But not right now.” David placed one hand gently on top of Shane’s head, soothing himself more than his son. “He’s only just turned three. He’s too young to even understand the concept.”
“Didn’t his goldfish die last week?”
“Mr Kevin,” David said pointedly, glaring at his brother, “went on vacation and is coming back next week.”
Shane nodded solemnly. “We’re going to the airport,” he said quietly.
Curse that stupid goldfish for dying just as the pet store had run out of lookalikes, meaning he couldn’t swap the fish for an alive when while Shane was sleeping, happily letting the toddler think goldfish randomly go for ‘long naps’ where they float on top of the cage. David had been forced to wait until the next shipment arrived, and he just hoped to God there would be one close enough to Kevin that Shane—who was far more perceptive than any toddler had a right to be—wouldn’t notice the difference.
Said perceptive toddler had also demanded to go in the car to the airport to greet Mr Kevin when he ‘came home’, which had led to the ridiculous and overpriced plan of Yuna buying the new goldfish and immediately driving to the airport to meet David and Shane in the car park.
It took two hours of driving to get to the airport.
Two hours.
Two hours of driving with a cranky toddler who hated his car seat just to retrieve a ten-dollar fish from a car park that cost sixty dollars simply to enter. Never mind the cost of petrol or Yuna’s taxi fare.
The shit he did for his son.
“Okay, okay, okay.” Peter laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “Hope he comes back safely from the airport, kid.”
He said it to Shane, who simply nodded, mumbling a quiet, “Thank you,” around his thumb.
A habit David really should discourage, but he just looked so cute…
“In five, four, three, two, one…”
David held his breath.
“Jump!”
His amazing, lovely wife and annoying brother flung themselves off the cliff.
David bit his lip hard enough to stop himself from gasping as they disappeared over the edge, his stomach dropping with them. He somehow managed to keep the camera steady, knowing Yuna would simply make them do it again and again until he got the right angle.
He took one—
Then two very small steps closer to the edge, just enough to see Yuna and Peter were swimming towards the shore, both laughing like idiots from the adrenaline rush of almost killing themselves.
“Uncle and Mama safe at the bottom?” Shane asked, his little fingers just grazing the bottom of Davids swimming shorts, reassuring that irrational fear that he had slipped too close to the edge when he wasn’t looking. Even if he was now way too close for his liking since David was also at the edge.
David let out a sigh of relief.
“Yes, baby. Mama and your uncle are at the bottom, so let’s go meet them—”
David didn’t get to finish.
Because Shane nodded, looking determined—
And ran straight off the cliff.
David didn’t think.
He didn’t blink.
He just threw himself straight after Shane, not even able to consider any other action. His heart stopped, his fear of heights paling in comparison to the idea of his son falling.
Shane was so small.
Only thirty-eight months old and tiny, with little fingers and little toes. His bones were still soft, still developing and fusing together, so much more fragile than an adult’s. Including his skull. His little, precious head that he liked to rest in the crook of David’s neck, letting out soft, sleepy sighs against his skin.
A fall from this height would kill him.
But not David.
It was like time slowed down. The split second he was in the air stretched endlessly as he fell towards Shane, who was tumbling through the air ahead of him, headfirst towards the water.
A posture that could surely snap his delicate little neck.
Kill him.
Kill his baby.
David had never been more thankful for the weight he had put on after college. He was falling faster than Shane.
He slammed into Shanes back, feeling his soft skin and the knobs of his spine against his midsection.
David immediately wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tighter than he ever had, or would ever dare too, before.
He twisted in the air, his back now facing the water and Shane cradled tightly against his chest.
It was far from the proper position for safely jumping from a large height into water. But going feet-first, like he should, risked Shane breaking his ankles.
His little feet.
The same little feet that were still small enough to fit in the palm of David’s hand, that kicked him thought-out the night when his bright green truck-bed got too lonely, that dug into the side of his ribs when Shane demanded to be carried.
He had only a split second to take a breath, pressing Shane’s head tightly against his chest before they hit the water.
AND GOD DAMN!
THAT SHIT HURT!!!
The cold came next.
The water that had felt refreshing only minutes earlier was now an icy shock to his entire body, adding to the pain of what felt like being hit by a fucking truck.
David blinked underwater, the lake burning uncomfortably in his eyes, trying to shake his head to get rid of the dazed feeling.
There had been far too many shocks to his system in the past ten seconds, starting with his three-year-old son apparently trying to commit suicide.
Frantic little fingers that where digging into the skin of his neck brought him back to himself, kicking franticly to the surface, only able to think of getting his son air.
They burst through the water with a gasp, Shane immediately coughing straight into David’s face—an action David had never been more grateful for.
He instinctively pulled Shane closer, his heart still lodged somewhere in his throat, before letting out a strangled groan of pain.
Well, shit.
There went his ribs.
David slowly rolled onto his back, letting himself float so he could pull Shane up to sit on his chest. He needed the space to check that all of Shane’s little limbs were unbroken and facing the correct direction. The action pulled at his side, but he ignored the two - maybe three - broken ribs on his throbbing side that had met the water first.
He noticed Shane’s bunny Crocs had been lost at some point but didn’t bring attention to it, knowing Shane—in the nicest way possible—would lose his shit if he realised his swim vest was missing its matching shoes.
Apart from that, his delicate little figure was completely intact. No crooked fingers, no suspicious bumps, no broken skin. He couldn’t stop himself from tracing one finger down Shane’s knobbly little spine, checking for any breaks or misaligned bones, despite feeling his own bones shift with the action, causing a horrible shooting pain.
Shane blinked down at him, eyes wide and lit up, making rare eye contact. His little face scrunched up and David was already lifting one arm, ignoring the pain, ready to sooth his son from the almost death experience-
He giggled.
Shane curled his fingers into David’s chest hair, tugging excitedly as a wide smile spread across his face. It was the same smile David usually only saw when the toddler was watching hockey.
His small shoulders were shaking from the force of his laughter and giggles as Shane happily slapped Davids chest, ignoring his groan of pain.
“Again!” Shane yelled, his high-pitched voice full of delight, “Again daddy! Lets do it again!”
“Fuck,” David sighed, letting himself rest his head back in the water and allowing himself the rare privilege of a swear word, letting out an incredulous snort due to the mindboggling events that had just happened.
Shane frowned slightly. Apparently confused as to why his daddy wasn’t immediately obeying his commands like usual.
“Daddy.” Shane patted his chest again, harder than David appreciated, before pointing towards the top of the cliff as if David had simply misunderstood. “Again, Daddy. Let’s go!”
“Just give me five minutes, bug,” David repeated, using the phrase Shane was very used to hearing. “Just let me catch my breath.”
“Then again?” Shane asked hopefully, his head tilting to the side as his fingers twitched with excitement.
David, not wanting Shane to start having a tantrum in the middle of the lake, only kept afloat by David who now starting to really, really feel the effects of what were almost certainly three broken ribs—did the oldest trick in the parenting book.
He lied
“Sure bud, but we need to wait at least 20 minutes before we can do it again. It’s the law.”
Shanes mouth dropped in shocked realisation, but nodded reluctantly, not wanting his daddy to go to jail like David may have told him would happen if he disobeyed the law after a battel to get him to eat broccoli.
And thankfully, Shane was still far too young to know what actually counted as a law.
Or, more importantly, what counted as a complete fucking lie.
“DAVID! DAVID! Oh my—ARE YOU OK? IS SHANE—?”
Yuna’s panicked voice, full of terror and horror, reached across the lake, followed by the sound of frantic splashing.
David turned his head— and wow, even that hurt — to see his wife and brother swimming frantically towards them, any show of swimming skill completely lost to panic. The waves they created reached David, splashing over his face and making him splutter while Shane giggled again at his dad’s misfortune.
“He’s alright!” David tiredly yelled back, starting to weakly kick his legs towards shore. “Nothing broken!”
Yuna and Peter met him halfway.
Two pairs of hands reached forward to support him and drag him closer to the grassy bank.
“Jesus Christ! I can't believe —. Shane, are you — Baby, I—” The second David felt the grass beneath his back, Yuna reached forwards and practically yanked Shane off his chest, clutching him tightly against her. “Oh, my God. Oh my God. Baby—oh, my little baby—”
David felt a shadow cross his face.
He opened his eyes, having closed them the second he saw Shane safely in Yuna’s arms, and came face to face with his little brother.
Peter looked both shocked and terrified.
On instinct, David weakly reached forward to pat him on the shoulder, unable not to comfort his little brother. He tried to mutter some reassurance, but the pain was really starting to hit now, his entire body beginning to burn.
Peter shook his head with a huff, though a smile was already starting to creep across his face.
“Well, shit, Dave. That’s one way to get over your fears.” He laughed almost manically. “I’ve got to say, though—that was some impressive shit.”
“Shut up,” David groaned, one hand cupping his side and confirming—
Yep.
Definitely three broken ribs.
“Oh God. I am in pain. I am in so much pain.”
“I thought you were meant to be a hockey player?”
“I was a hockey player almost fifteen years ago,” David glared. “And the only person who has ever broken my ribs was you. And that was only one.”
“I said I was sorry for that,” Peter whined in the tone little brothers seemed to be born knowing how to use. Then his face twisted with concern. “Wait, only one? How many ribs have you broken?”
“Three.” David bit down a whimper, not wanting his son to watch his dad cry out in pain, even if Shane was currently distracted by Yuna’s frantic kisses and whispered reassurances.
Not that he seemed to need the comfort, happily sitting in his mother’s arms, swinging his little legs.
“Damn," Peter whistled, "That’s an A&E trip. Come on, let’s get you up. Sophia is getting the car.”
David— and he would not admit this to anyone— pouted.
He hated hospitals.
He took shallow breaths, trying his best to prepare himself for the pain as Peter reached forward to grab him under the arms.
His little brother immediately let out an “Oof!” as he was shoved backwards so hard he rolled onto the grass. A smiling toddler dropped onto his chest before he could even sit back up.
Yuna collapsed to her knees beside him, reaching forward to cup the back of his neck and completely ignoring his groan of pain.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” The words came out in frantic mutters as she pressed kisses all over his face. “Oh my God, Honey. You saved our son. You jumped after him. I love you so much, thank you—”
“Of course,” David soothed, stroking a hand down her arm.
He smiled despite himself as his wife continued to frantically kiss him.
“Of course I would jump. He’s our baby.”
They both turned to look at Shane as one.
Neither of them could stop themselves, they needed the reminder that their little boy was safe, happy and healthy, not at the bottom of the lake with a broken neck.
Said little boy was currently waddling towards the start of the path that led to the top of the cliff, his Uncle Peter was frantically chasing after him.
David closed his eyes.
"Maybe it is time to explain the concept of death.”
Yuna slowly nodded.
"At least we won't have to go to the airport for Kevin."