[Future][C] What Do?

Darragh never thought he'd be in this position. Usually Rosie had more sense than this. But here he was, sat on his beaten up old couch, cradling a fussy baby in his lap. Petros was not happy today, and Darragh had no idea what to do with him.

A twenty two year old with little prior experience did not know what to do with a year old baby.

So he had done the only logical thing someone stuck in this position could do.

He called his mom.

And now he was bouncing the fussy baby gently, crooning the soft cat-centric lullaby his dad used to sing to him, and waiting for Aeker to burst through the door like a knight in shining armour.

Aeker couldn't have been more surprised to get Darragh's call.

He'd become fairly independent in the last few years and it was normally Aeker calling up scolding the boy about not being around more often to see them.

Getting calls for help were not that rare, getting calls for help about baby problems, that was a new one.

Straight away he had gotten in the car to race over, he could only imagine how the child was fairing with Darragh as it's guardian for the day.

The vampire didn't bother knocking, instead he simply let himself in, pushing the door open to survey the damage.

The damage was minimal.

Despite the messy art corner (which Dare forever allowed to be messy) his apartment was pretty tidy.

There was a pair of boots slung next to the edge of the coffee table, and a tattoo magazine open on the wooden surface next to a half-full ashtray. But otherwise the place was neat. 

He was sat on the edge of his beaten couch next to the window, still trying to sooth the fussy baby. There was a bottle of milk sat next to him, almost untouched, and the kid's bag was on the seat next to him, open.

Dare would be the only thing apart from the baby that had changed. He had two new piercings adorning his face. Two long curved bars running from his lower lip, where they pierced the flesh, down to his chin.

"Mother! Thank fuck. Fix him, please." He gave Petros a little bounce. "He just wont settle."

Aeker payed the state of the house no mind, he was more worried about the currently fussing baby and the slightly panicked man holding it.

"Give him here."

The vampire said gently, crossing the room in a few long steps. He had always had a way with children, he was gentle and calm and it seemed to sooth them.

At least it always had with Darragh.

Aeker scooped the child up and held him against his chest, getting him in a comfortable position before walking around the room, swaying slightly.

He hummed a tune that he always went back to when Darragh struggled to settle at night, looking down at the child it was clear he was upset about something.

Slight fever, fussy, runny nose... Aeker gently placed the tip of his finger into the child's mouth with a knowing nod as he felt around his gums.

"He's teething."

That always made for a misterable child.

Darragh rubbed a tattooed hand down his face while he watched Aeker cuddle and hum at the baby.

How his aunt dealt with him when he was that small, he didn't know.

"Teething? Thanks for the heads up, Rose. Fuck," he mumbled to himself. He didn't know what to do with a healthy, happy baby. What did he do with one that was teething?

"Mother knows best," he declared, stretching out along the couch, bare foot coming up to rest on the edge of the seat. His other food remained on the ground. "What do you do with a teething baby?"

Aeker didn't have Darragh as practise, but he was certain he remembered Aeker helping out with the rest of the pack when they were little. Cinaed, Luka, Jem and Rosie. And whatever other child had come in and out of their lives in the past twenty years.

Certainly more practise than Darragh had.

"Didn't dad used to talk about putting some brandy on Moe's gums when she was teething?" He vaguely recalled those conversations, had when they were all sat around together, drinking and chatting and reliving the good old days by bringing up embarrassing stories that were only somewhat relevant to the topic of conversation that was actually going on.

"She probably had no idea."

Teething seemed to happen quite suddenly, one moment they're fine and the next they're miserable.

"Getting him drunk may not be the best course of action."

He had helped deal with Jem when he was teething, it was worse for the poor hybrid because he was half Vampire, getting his baby fangs hadn't been fun.

"There should be some teething gel in his nappy bag, grab it for me please."

He asked, swaying on the spot. Trying to sooth the upset child by rocking him.

"Ma, if she has no idea, she wouldn't have packed anything for it," he reasoned.

But he leaned over to check anyway. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that red-eyed glare. He'd learned quickly that those glares were rough.

A few minutes later, he came up empty handed.

He gave a helpless shrug, then settled back into the couch.

Ma had the fussy baby now. He could relax for a moment.

Aeker gave a sigh as Darragh gave up and flopped back onto the couch.

Heaven forbid if he ever had his own kids if he was such a couch potato.

"Well then up you get, we're going to the pharmacy, maybe a walk in the stroller will calm him down."

Bumpy sidewalks worked wonders for putting children to sleep.

"Right."

Even mama couldn't make miracles, he supposed. At least he had some help with the kid now.

"How loud can you scream in public, Petros?" he asked, leaning over to press a kiss to the baby's temple, being careful with the spikes coming from his lower lip. He grinned at his mother then moved over to the door. 

He stuffed his keys and his wallet into his jeans, the grabbed the folded up stroller. It was a little bit of a feat to get the stroller down the stairs, but when they were out on the street, he unfolded it and leaned against the handles while Aeker strapped the baby in.

A little blood would have fixed those sore teeth right up but he wasn't comfortable offering that up for a child that wasn't his own.

Though it had worked a treat for little Jem.

Once they were down the stairs he strapped the baby into the stroller, Petros immediately started fussing again but that was something a bit of a bumpy right would fix.

"Make sure to hit all the cracks in the pavement."

For some reason he was still unsure of, children in strollers preferred a bumpy ride over a smooth one and it worked wonders for putting them to sleep.

"How about we try for ninety percent?"

He wasn't exactly in the best area of the city. The pavement was more cracks than actual pavement in this area. He wasn't going on a mad spree to catch all the cracks.

But he moved down the pavement, veering to catch a few cracks.

Aeker wasn't entirely pleased with Darragh's housing situation, if it were up to him he'd have a nicer place closer in the suburbs.

But Darragh was adamant about making his own way instead of letting his parents dote on him.

It was an argument he had lost long ago.

"So apart from baby dramas how have you been holding up?" It was hard for Aeker to let go of his little boy.

"Pretty great," he replied, turning a grin towards his mom.

"Do you know how many rich people around here want paintings of their cats and dogs?" That was, surprisingly, his biggest revenue.

He knew spending all those years sketching Maccon and the wolves would pay off. He was glad he'd learned well how to draw and paint animals. Without that skill he doubted he'd be as successful as he currently was.

Aeker was always immensely proud of his son's artistic capabilities and Darragh was a lot less shy about it than Aodh was.

"That's fantastic news."

He was glad to see the boy successful.

Darragh had grown up flourishing under his parents praise of his ability. It made all the difference to the years that Aodh spent just sketching and never showing anyone. It took months for Aodh to even let on that he was an artist to Aeker, while Darragh had all but threw his work at people to show off what he did.

And he did the same now. A little more classy than tossing his crumpled crayon sketches at people, but it was the same premise.

"There's this one chick that showed off to all her friends what a beautiful painting of frou frou she got her hands on, and that opened up all sorts of avenues. It's amazing what people will pay to outdo their rich friends."

He tipped the pram up so it was on its back wheels, so he could look at the now laying down Petros. He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes and the fussy baby giggled. "Now that's a better noise, Mr. Petros." He righted the pram, grinning at his accomplishment. 

"How are you two guys doing? Plotted to kill him for leaving his crusty underwear on the floor yet?" 

That was one thing about his father that he couldn't deal with. Just leaving all his clothes on the floor. It made him cringe. He'd been raised with Aeker's cleanliness is close to godliness mindset as a big influence, and he kept most of his life incredibly clean. His home, his finances, his affairs. Well, he kept those as clean as possible, until other people got involved. But that was expected. Other peoples emotions were messy business. Especially when most of them weren't good emotions.

Aeker gave a little sigh and shook his head, it had been easier to keep things tidy when Darragh had lived with them because it was two against one when I came to Aodh's untidy tendencies.

"I am debating choking him with his own dirty socks."

He remembered when they had first started dating, Aodh's room had been a mine field.

Still, it gave him plenty of ammunition to punish his Lycan with.

"I'll have to commission you to do a family portrait of the pack for Alek so time. If I can afford you."

No doubt that would make a lovely present for the alpha.

"Kinky," he snorted.

That was one thing he had gotten from his father: his terrible sense of humour. It was something everyone had to deal with.

"I dunno mom, I'm not cheap whore."

He stuck his tongue out, grinning with his nose wrinkled, just like he used to do when he was a child.

Aeker rolled his eyes at the joke, how like his father he was.

Having one Aodh was hard enough as it was.

"I'd be worried if you were."

He hoped Darragh had a little more self worth than that.

He laughed.

"Rest assured, mother, I charge a decent price for my body." He grinned, nose wrinkling up.

He guessed his mom was getting quite uncomfortable with this sort of conversation. Aeker didn't much like vulgar conversation.

"I need some way to pay back for all this ink, after all." He, like his father, was one to give one final nudge to conversations he knew was going downhill.

Aeker's eyes narrowed down at his son.

He knew Darragh was no Saint, heaven forbid Aeker try to convince himself that he had any form of innocence left in him.

That didn't mean he wanted to hear about it though.

"Darragh..."

He warned, shaking his head, Darragh's affinity for the vulgar was definitely something he did not get from the vampire.

Darragh grinned widely, but fell silently obediently. He knew when to push and when not to.

His goal was always to tease, never to cause an argument.

He tipped the pram backwards again and began shaking it a little. "Earthquakeeeee."

He didn't stop until Petros was giggling madly. Then he set the pram to rights and stopped, crouching besides his acting-nephew.

"Look at you, ah? Sei un grande uomo forte, not being scared of no earthquake." Darragh usually couple separate his thick Irish-English and his fluently Catanian accented Italian, but the only time you could hear Darragh with an Italian accent to his English, was when he flip flopped between Italian and English in a single sentence.

He stroked the top of Petros' head. "We'll get you something to help that out soon, okay, little man? Un attimo."

He patted his thigh and stood, steering the pram again. They were getting close to the pharmacy.

Aeker gave a small smile as he watched Darragh interact with the small child.

He had always been good with kids and there had been no shortage of them around the coven as the man had been growing up.

"Not to the that parent but..."

He hinted, looking down at the Darragh interacting with the child.

He hoped that Darragh would give him grandchildren at some point.

"But you're gonna be exactly that parent," Darragh replied without missing a beat.

He leaned over a little as he was pushing the pram, so he could get a glance at Petros' dark head.

"I don't know, mama. Bin ich bereit für ein Kind? Aufrichtig?" The German fell from his lips just as easily as the English and Italian, and his brows arched imploringly at his mother. German wasn't something he used often. His accent was off, clearly a foreigner that had learned the language, very different than the other three languages he spoke. He really only used the language when he was trying to drive home an important point to his mother. German always made Aeker perk up and listen closely.

He was a hot mess. He was a druggie and, at his worst, he couldn't even look after himself some days. And his girlfriend? "Shoot isn't exactly mother material, either, mama. She's fun, but... she's not family." He liked Shoot, he did. Despite her need to make everything a game, and her seriously enabling personality, she was great to hang out with, but he didn't see a substantial future with her. There wasn't a child in their future, that was for sure.

Aeker would have to wait for a grandchild.
_______________________________________________________
Am I ready for a sprog? Honestly?

The German caught his attention, causing him to pursue his lips a little.

He knew Darragh wasn't ready for something like that, he wouldn't be for a long while yet.

His son was still finding himself and embracing his independence.

Darragh's current partner did leave a lot to be desired in Asker's eyes, he knew that she wasn't the one.

"I know I know, it's just hard letting go."
Letting Darragh live out on his own had left a little hole in the vampire, the child he doted on wasn't around as much anymore.

He hoped at least hat Darragh cleaned up his act before starting a family of his own.

He gave a laugh. "I know, mama."

He had the same empty nesting problem. For years he was the protector of a lot of the kids, being a handful of years older than them. Cinead and Luka, Jem, Rosa. He played protector and babysitter for years.

Then they grew up and didn't need a babysitter, and a lot of the time didn't want to hang with their cousin any more. He was out of a job, and out of kids to entertain. That had been hard for him to adjust to, and he'd spent a good few months hanging around the four of them, and pretty much making them beat him away.

Now Rosa had a sprog of her own, he was the cool babysitter again, which he liked.

Dare steered the pram through the pharmacy's open door, then paused, looking over at his mother. He had no idea what he was looking for.