![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beansideTitle: Noon as Dark
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beanside & nilchance
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Never happened. Never will.
A/N: Companion piece to my wife's Dawn-verse Jeremy and Zach's story, circa 2004.
The next week passes in relative quiet. 34 learns to answer to Zach again, but he wonders if it'll ever feel like his name. His staples come out at the hands of a lovely blonde woman who Jeremy introduces as Dr. Ever Carradine. She's a little slip of a woman, all gentle hands and iron will. Once she finishes with him, she takes a look at the baby, making an approving noise when she slides her on the scale. “She's back up to her birth weight, and then some.”
Jeremy grins proudly at Zach, and Zach feels something warm uncurl in his chest. “Zach's pumping.”
“That's good. She'll do better on that." Ever turns on Zach, her expression stern. "Just make sure that you're taking in enough calories. I don't want to see any low fat shit in your fridge, Jer. And none of that granola bullshit you call food. He needs protein, real protein. Steak and chicken and cheese and milk.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Jeremy grins, tossing her a quick salute. He looks exhausted, Zach notes. Dark circles carve gouges under Jeremy's eyes.
Ever gentles, reaching out to touch Jeremy's face. Despite himself, despite all the reasons he should be grateful, Zach wants to push her hand off Jeremy. His Jeremy. Ever says, "That goes for you too, Daddy. No use in you getting sick."
Jeremy smiles ruefully and ducks away from her hand.
After Ever leaves, Jeremy brings him lunch. It's a heavy cream soup, fattening as hell, and Jeremy gives it to him with another of those protein milkshakes. “You heard the harpy. You've gotta eat up.”
Zach nods slowly, giving Jeremy a smile. “Thank you. Would you, um. Come here?”
As he'd hoped, Jeremy responds to the smile, visibly softening. He sinks to the bed, stretching out beside Zach, and slips an arm around Zach's shoulder. The tray balances on their laps. “Sure thing, baby. Anything you want."
Careful, slow, Zach lays his head on Jeremy's chest. Jeremy freezes for a minute, then relaxes with a long sigh. He touches Zach's shoulder, fingers light, and puts his head back on the pillows.
Between his exhaustion and the warm bed, it barely takes a moment for Jeremy to doze off. Zach stays where he is for a few minutes, listening to Jeremy breathe, before he turns back to his lunch.
Whatever else this is, Jeremy's not a bad guy. Zach actually gets the feeling that he's trying to help. He just can't understand that there's no one left for him to help. Zach is damaged, flattened, done.
By the time he finishes eating, Jeremy is snoring. Zach puts the tray aside, so restless he feels like jittering. Ever said that he could get up, though she wanted him to do it with Jeremy at his side. But Jeremy needs his sleep.
He gets up slowly, surprised at how little pain it causes. It's only been a week, but he feels good. In the Centers, he'd already be back on an exercise regime. He kind of likes being able to relax, but he's starting to lose his mind.
He wanders slowly through the house, noting that... well. Jeremy's kind of a slob. And he has no taste. The only decent piece of furniture in the house is the sofa, a big overstuffed leather monstrosity that sits in front of the television.
The kitchen is pretty well stocked, especially with liquor. Zach ignores that, and wanders back into the living room. He's eyeing the couch when the baby cries.
Shit. Now Jeremy's going to see him and be pissed that he got up alone. Zach freezes, waiting for the yelling to begin, but there's no sign of Jeremy. He heads back to the room and finds Jeremy still snoring.
“Jeremy?” Zach nudges him.
Jeremy doesn't budge. Just keeps right on snoring. Asleep, the dark circles look even worse. How long has it been since he slept?
The baby is two and a half weeks old, give or take. He's willing to bet that Jeremy didn't sleep well leading up to it, either.
Zach sighs and goes to the nursery. The baby's face is all wrinkled up, red from her crying. “I know," Zach says absently. "It sucks. Shh, shh.”
He does what he's seen Jeremy do, tugging aside the leg of her diaper to check for a mess, but she seems dry. She must be hungry. But how did Jeremy do the bottle thing? How warm should it be? Bathwater? Soup?
Zach stares at her as her sobs somehow get louder, her little fists waving as she works herself into a fit. Fuck.
She hiccups when he picks her up, nestling close against his chest. Her little body is shaking all over from exertion, wrung out as a dishrag. Her fingers catch in Zach's shirt, clinging as he carries her out to the sofa. When Zach sits on the edge of the sofa, her teary eyes seemed to look right at him. It's an illusion, she really can't focus yet, but Zach tells her like she'll understand, “I'm going to feed you.”
He slides Jeremy's borrowed shirt open and nudges her towards a nipple, but she doesn't seem to know what to do with it. Her face screws up again, like she's preparing to let loose with another war-cry.
“Shh,” Zach says desperately. “Here, look, milk.” He strokes her cheek with a finger, trying to urge her to the right place.
For a moment, she only squirms, her fists smacking into his chest. Then, all at once, her mouth clamps down on him. Zach flinches, fighting the urge to yank her off. “Ow! Jesus, you're a fucking piranha.”
She sucks blissfully, her eyes sliding closed. One tiny hand snags his shirt, like she's holding him to her. Like she knows he wants to bolt.
Something in his chest breaks open. He created this girl. He brought her to life with his body, and he gets to keep her. He'll watch her grow. Have so much more than bright lights and a wail to remember her by.
He has a daughter.
She doesn't seem to mind the tears falling on her head. Nothing shy of a hurricane is going to distract her from her lunch, apparently.
“It's okay, baby,” he whispers, his voice hitching on a laugh. “I'm going to try, all right? But I'm pretty fucked up. And... I probably shouldn't say that to you. Sorry. But it's going to be okay.”
He reaches a finger down to stroke her hand on his chest. She grunts and her fingers close around his.
Zach closes his burning eyes. Of all the things he'd expected, this would have been last. This perfect little baby. His daughter.
He tugs her off gently, patting her back the way Jeremy does. She doesn't disappoint, letting out a loud burp. “Good job,” he tells her, switching her to the other breast, which is so full that it's aching.
She latches on a little gentler, and Zach smiles down. “There you go.”
He settles onto the sofa, placing one of the soft pillows against her to make sure she stays on his lap. She fidgets, nosing at him, then quiets. Her eyes flutter, the lashes long against her cheeks, but she doesn't let go of his finger. Her rhythmic sucking lulls him, and he closes his eyes, letting himself drift in the quiet.
Holy shit, he gets to keep this one. His girl. She's his to screw up, his to raise and to protect. His and Jeremy's to watch grow up, strong and healthy and free.
Authors:
beanside & nilchanceRating: R
Disclaimer: Never happened. Never will.
A/N: Companion piece to my wife's Dawn-verse Jeremy and Zach's story, circa 2004.
The next week passes in relative quiet. 34 learns to answer to Zach again, but he wonders if it'll ever feel like his name. His staples come out at the hands of a lovely blonde woman who Jeremy introduces as Dr. Ever Carradine. She's a little slip of a woman, all gentle hands and iron will. Once she finishes with him, she takes a look at the baby, making an approving noise when she slides her on the scale. “She's back up to her birth weight, and then some.”
Jeremy grins proudly at Zach, and Zach feels something warm uncurl in his chest. “Zach's pumping.”
“That's good. She'll do better on that." Ever turns on Zach, her expression stern. "Just make sure that you're taking in enough calories. I don't want to see any low fat shit in your fridge, Jer. And none of that granola bullshit you call food. He needs protein, real protein. Steak and chicken and cheese and milk.”
“Yes, ma'am,” Jeremy grins, tossing her a quick salute. He looks exhausted, Zach notes. Dark circles carve gouges under Jeremy's eyes.
Ever gentles, reaching out to touch Jeremy's face. Despite himself, despite all the reasons he should be grateful, Zach wants to push her hand off Jeremy. His Jeremy. Ever says, "That goes for you too, Daddy. No use in you getting sick."
Jeremy smiles ruefully and ducks away from her hand.
After Ever leaves, Jeremy brings him lunch. It's a heavy cream soup, fattening as hell, and Jeremy gives it to him with another of those protein milkshakes. “You heard the harpy. You've gotta eat up.”
Zach nods slowly, giving Jeremy a smile. “Thank you. Would you, um. Come here?”
As he'd hoped, Jeremy responds to the smile, visibly softening. He sinks to the bed, stretching out beside Zach, and slips an arm around Zach's shoulder. The tray balances on their laps. “Sure thing, baby. Anything you want."
Careful, slow, Zach lays his head on Jeremy's chest. Jeremy freezes for a minute, then relaxes with a long sigh. He touches Zach's shoulder, fingers light, and puts his head back on the pillows.
Between his exhaustion and the warm bed, it barely takes a moment for Jeremy to doze off. Zach stays where he is for a few minutes, listening to Jeremy breathe, before he turns back to his lunch.
Whatever else this is, Jeremy's not a bad guy. Zach actually gets the feeling that he's trying to help. He just can't understand that there's no one left for him to help. Zach is damaged, flattened, done.
By the time he finishes eating, Jeremy is snoring. Zach puts the tray aside, so restless he feels like jittering. Ever said that he could get up, though she wanted him to do it with Jeremy at his side. But Jeremy needs his sleep.
He gets up slowly, surprised at how little pain it causes. It's only been a week, but he feels good. In the Centers, he'd already be back on an exercise regime. He kind of likes being able to relax, but he's starting to lose his mind.
He wanders slowly through the house, noting that... well. Jeremy's kind of a slob. And he has no taste. The only decent piece of furniture in the house is the sofa, a big overstuffed leather monstrosity that sits in front of the television.
The kitchen is pretty well stocked, especially with liquor. Zach ignores that, and wanders back into the living room. He's eyeing the couch when the baby cries.
Shit. Now Jeremy's going to see him and be pissed that he got up alone. Zach freezes, waiting for the yelling to begin, but there's no sign of Jeremy. He heads back to the room and finds Jeremy still snoring.
“Jeremy?” Zach nudges him.
Jeremy doesn't budge. Just keeps right on snoring. Asleep, the dark circles look even worse. How long has it been since he slept?
The baby is two and a half weeks old, give or take. He's willing to bet that Jeremy didn't sleep well leading up to it, either.
Zach sighs and goes to the nursery. The baby's face is all wrinkled up, red from her crying. “I know," Zach says absently. "It sucks. Shh, shh.”
He does what he's seen Jeremy do, tugging aside the leg of her diaper to check for a mess, but she seems dry. She must be hungry. But how did Jeremy do the bottle thing? How warm should it be? Bathwater? Soup?
Zach stares at her as her sobs somehow get louder, her little fists waving as she works herself into a fit. Fuck.
She hiccups when he picks her up, nestling close against his chest. Her little body is shaking all over from exertion, wrung out as a dishrag. Her fingers catch in Zach's shirt, clinging as he carries her out to the sofa. When Zach sits on the edge of the sofa, her teary eyes seemed to look right at him. It's an illusion, she really can't focus yet, but Zach tells her like she'll understand, “I'm going to feed you.”
He slides Jeremy's borrowed shirt open and nudges her towards a nipple, but she doesn't seem to know what to do with it. Her face screws up again, like she's preparing to let loose with another war-cry.
“Shh,” Zach says desperately. “Here, look, milk.” He strokes her cheek with a finger, trying to urge her to the right place.
For a moment, she only squirms, her fists smacking into his chest. Then, all at once, her mouth clamps down on him. Zach flinches, fighting the urge to yank her off. “Ow! Jesus, you're a fucking piranha.”
She sucks blissfully, her eyes sliding closed. One tiny hand snags his shirt, like she's holding him to her. Like she knows he wants to bolt.
Something in his chest breaks open. He created this girl. He brought her to life with his body, and he gets to keep her. He'll watch her grow. Have so much more than bright lights and a wail to remember her by.
He has a daughter.
She doesn't seem to mind the tears falling on her head. Nothing shy of a hurricane is going to distract her from her lunch, apparently.
“It's okay, baby,” he whispers, his voice hitching on a laugh. “I'm going to try, all right? But I'm pretty fucked up. And... I probably shouldn't say that to you. Sorry. But it's going to be okay.”
He reaches a finger down to stroke her hand on his chest. She grunts and her fingers close around his.
Zach closes his burning eyes. Of all the things he'd expected, this would have been last. This perfect little baby. His daughter.
He tugs her off gently, patting her back the way Jeremy does. She doesn't disappoint, letting out a loud burp. “Good job,” he tells her, switching her to the other breast, which is so full that it's aching.
She latches on a little gentler, and Zach smiles down. “There you go.”
He settles onto the sofa, placing one of the soft pillows against her to make sure she stays on his lap. She fidgets, nosing at him, then quiets. Her eyes flutter, the lashes long against her cheeks, but she doesn't let go of his finger. Her rhythmic sucking lulls him, and he closes his eyes, letting himself drift in the quiet.
Holy shit, he gets to keep this one. His girl. She's his to screw up, his to raise and to protect. His and Jeremy's to watch grow up, strong and healthy and free.
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-26 08:56 pm (UTC)