Post by Scribe on Aug 5, 2009 16:59:57 GMT -5
SLAIN BEAST TAVERN
1.5.2166
Tom Merrick wanted a drink.
He sat at the bar, waiting for Derick to arrive, wishing that the soda water in front of him could be a glass of Romulan ale and knowing that if he indulged that whim he was just going to make things worse. And right now, things were bad enough. He had practically run out of the place he and Alex had been sharing for better part of a year now, terrified out of his mind.
Christ, he hadn’t been this scared in his whole life.
When that call had come from Tom, Derick had dropped what he was doing and headed for Fabien's. There were few things that could shake that man like what Derick had heard in his friend's voice. As soon as he was off the comm, Derick had rang Sydney up, ordering her that under NO CIRCUMSTANCE was she to serve Tom alcohol. No matter what happened. No matter how he cursed or begged. Yes. Begged. Something told Derick that whatever this was, it was that bad.
Off the comm with Sydney, he'd shoved his feet into his boots, left a note for Sloane and made for the Beasts like a bat out of hell.
When he entered, spotting his friend at the bar, the sight only confirmed there was something wrong. Tom was almost... shaking. Pale. Like one wrong move or loud noise and they'd be prying him out of the ceiling panels. Sliding up next to him, Derick nodded to Sydney. "Tom," he began, eyeing his friend. "What's up?"
“Where the hell have you been?” Tom hissed, throwing Derick a look that bordered on panic. “I’ve been waiting here, trying to figure out what the best thing to do is. I’m thinking either a drink or getting on a freighter to join with the Nibrite alliance. They’re after MACOs you know,” Tom rambled. “Want them to train their militia or something….”
The best thing to do here was to stay calm. Like facing a mother bear or a mother MULK. Stay calm. Pray for rescue. "The best thing to do for what?" he prompted. The last time Tom had been like this, he decked a certain Iron Colonel and was looking at the end of life as he knew it. However, with Governor Hayes off-world currently and Ren on light duty with her 'bump', he had to rationalize the man wasn't behind this. "What's happened?" he asked calmly.
Tom’s eyes darted about, looking over Derick’s shoulder, making certain that Sydney was nowhere in sight because if she knew, Kemper would know and you might as well tell the whole bloody Earth colony then. When he was satisfied that no one was paying attention, Tom leaned forward and replied, “Its Alex. She’s pregnant.”
"She's WHAT....??" He could have said anything else and Derick probably wouldn't be half as surprised. "I thought..." He blinked, staring at Tom. "I thought she couldn't get ... " The P word. "What with her injuries and all...? That's... " Derick actually felt like he'd been gut punched.
“Well she is…!” Tm hissed and looked around. “She’s….you know…and definitely….and,” he swallowed, taking a sip of his soda water and wincing because it wasn’t stronger. “She wants to have it.”
"She does?" Realizing how that might sound, Derick made a face. "I mean.. okay..." he began, thinking this was probably the ONE thing he hadn't been prepared for. Tom in a drunk, okay. Tom in a fight, yeah. But Tom a Dad??
Reaching over the bar, Derick grabbed the nearest bottle at hand, Wild Turkey and downed a big gulp of it. "That one's for you," he told Tom and swigged back another big gulp. "That's for me..." he breathed, returning the bottle to it's place. "Now." He rubbed his face. "Okay. We can handle this. We're MACOs, remember."
“Handle what? We’re talking about a baby…a little thing that cries and pukes and craps all over the place,” he retorted. “I mean its all well and good for other blokes but MACOs…we don’t have kids!” As if he had spoken a dirty word, Tom added, “how the fuck can I be …” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “A dad. I’d have to know what `Cat in the Hat’s about.”
"It's about two kids left alone by a single mother working her butt off," Derick retorted, frowning. "And.. I mean.. look at the maggots. They cry and puke and crap all over the place and we deal with them. And what do you mean, how can you be a dad? I mean.. you gave me the talk, dude. I give the same one to the maggots now...."
“Exactly what I said,” Tom growled. “I’m not fit to be someone’s dad and this isn’t the same as maggots, well not entirely the same. Maggots piss you off you can send em home. Babies…well they’re soft and they’re weak and how do you cut their toe nails without taking the whole toe off!”
"They make.. well, they make.. baby-size things for that," Derick offered, frowning still. "We need Ren. And think about it, we can't send maggots home. They're ours for good three or four months. They're soft, they're weak... I mean, you can't order a baby to shut up or to do push-ups but... we need Ren," he sighed.
Tom looked at him. “Why do we need Ren? She’s up the duff too. And the women, they get bloody peculiar you know. Suddenly they care where you put your feet and start bitching about the house being too small…”
"Because Ren would have figured all this shit out already," Derick replied, one hand swatting Tom soundly, like he should know that. "And Alex has always cared where you put your feet, especially when your boots are on. Man... is she happy about it?"
“Oh she’s bloody over the moon,” Tom declared. “Keeps saying that it will be so wonderful. That’s I’d make a great dad to little Tommy…she wants to call him Tommy! ” Realising he raised his voice, Tom lowered it abruptly to avoid being caught out. “I mean we’d have to get married because its mine, I mean its not nice if we don’t. Kid’s going to be messed up enough….”
"You don't have to, I mean...there's no law says you do and Alex may not want to get married." Derick frowned again, looking over at Tom. "Okay. We need to do some recon," he said knowingly. "So we can make a tactical assessment. You know, a sitrep..." He snapped his fingers. "And I know where. Corporal Sampson," he said, looking at Tom triumphantly. Oh yeah. "She just had her baby. Erik...five months ago."
“Oh yeah,” Tom nodded since pregnant MACOs seemed to be everywhere these days. “I remember Kemper had to be sedated that his best mate Lindsey got her knocked up.” All it took was one party, too much alcohol and too many hormones. That being said, Tom was now in the same fucking position so he couldn’t comment. “Right,” he looked at Derick. “Recon’s what we got to do and of course I gotta be married,” Tom swatted Derick “what were you raised by bears? I mean I don’t want my son to be called a… its bad enough his father is one already, just from reputation."
"What were you raised by? The Spanish Inquisition? No one cares if people are married when they have kids anymore!" Derick, all rank aside, swatted or in this case, punched Tom right back. In the arm. "Okay. SO let's go see Grace and Erik Craig. I mean, we've faced MULKs, we can face one dinky baby MACO," he said, as if trying to convince himself.
"Oh really?" Tom glared at him, "bagged any babies lately with your trusty phase rifle mate?" He said downing the last of his soda water. He really wished Fabien would get more synthehol in, this soda water was crap. "Right then, let's go see Sampson and this baby." He said the last word like it was a Klingon targ.
"Babies can't hold phase rifles, dork," Derick rolled his eyes. "And it's a baby. Not.. a.. well, it's... " He sighed, seeming to give up. "Okay. "Let's go." He eyed Tom and then the door. "You first."
Tom wasn't convinced that the time bomb that was coming his way in approximately seven and a half months was any less terrifying than a MULK. Actually if you shot a MULK, your girlfriend wasn't going to give you holy hell.
He was fairly certain Alex would if he did the same to a baby.
Grumbling that he should be allowed to drink...at least once, Tom climbed off his barstool and head towards the door. "So we're doing recon. Do we have to touch the thing....?"
"Him. Not thing," Derick corrected, as Gracie had to him many times. "And hey, she and Petey ain't married. I think he's still in shock," he chuckled, following Tom now as they headed outside.
In short time, they were in front of Grace Sampson's door in the apartment house built after the war. The Corporal had been just as happy to live in the barracks but well... fate had other plans. On the other side of the door, a baby could be heard, still so new it was shiny.
Derick glanced at Tom, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.
The crying baby got closer.
"Sir!" Spying Derick as she opened the door, Grace held Erik close to her, up against one shoulder. Clad in a tiny camouflage sweat suit, he was all pudge and hair. And fussing around the little fist stuffed in his mouth. "Colonel.. shhh... Erik, hush..." she said, changing tracks lightening fast as she kissed the side of the baby's head, one hand patting him on the back. "Come on in, please..." she added with a smile to the two men.
Sampson looked.. tired. With circles under her eyes and her hair pulled back in a pony tail, yeah.. she was glowing.. but she also looked exhausted. Derick glanced at Tom and back to Grace. "Are you sure?"
"Yes sir, of course," she added with a smile, motioning them both in. "Lindsay.. Peter is coming over in a bit to watch Erik. Have a seat." Moving to the living room, Grace sank to a couch without even moving the baby, all in one fluid move.
Derick had already gone in but Tom lingered at the door. To be honest, the sound of crying baby had almost made him turn right around and head straight back to Beast and he was going to have his own shot of Wild Turkey. Instead, he wandered in like a man being dragged on a shopping spree with his woman (you only need to do that once to know you never wanted to do it again), eying the infant Sampson was carrying. All pink, drooling and hair. The babe's eyes was studying everything, focusing on nothing and making nonsensical sounds.
"How you be Corporal," he said trying to look calm and composed when he felt like a jack rabbit about to bolt.
"We're good," Grace smiled, about to say more when an odd sound filled the room.
"UUUUURRRP."
"What the hell was that?" Derick blurted out.
Laughing, she turned her head, just enough to ensure Erik hadn't spit up on that one, pulling his little fist out to double check. When she let his hand go, it went right back in, accompanied by a hefty baby sigh. "Good one, son.. Daddy will be proud of you," she chuckled and smiled at the two men. "That was my son, sir. Burping?" Really, the Lieutenant had done enough of that, he ought to recognize it. "Sit! Please.. sirs..." Gone was the timid woman child that had joined up four years ago. In her place was a young, confident woman. "What's up? Oh.. Colonel, did you get my request for active duty? The doctor cleared me."
Tom looked at Derick. "Yes...! That's what it is. You've been cleared for active duty. No problem. We...we...were in the neighbourhood and we thought, we'd give you the news personally. Isn't' that right ?" he nudged Derick to go along with it. He'd smooth it over with Dr. Quinn later. "Does he burp like that all the time?" Tom looked at the baby, "I mean it sounds like you're giving him hooch or something. I mean is he still getting milk from the bar or do you do the bottle thing? I mean how many times do you have to feed him? Does he need watering..?" the last question was a joke but it was riding the coat tails of Tom's mini rant so Grace could be forgiven for thinking he was serious.
Derick fixed Tom with a look that clearly said he thought Tom had grown a third head. "Uh.. yeah," he nodded.
Looking at first Tom, then Derick... Grace's eyebrows went into her bangs. Were they serious? "Yes, sir. You need to put him in a pot with some dirt every night, up to his knees and then soak the dirt really well. Don't worry about fertilizer, he provides his own," she chuckled. These two reminded her of Lorio and Anderson. Was that...? Good lord. Rolling her eyes, Grace got to her feet, deftly manoeuvring the baby around as she sat between them on the couch.
"Okay, Private," she said, kissing the top of the baby's head. For his part, Erik wasn't phased and gurgled around his fist. "Alright, sirs.. listen up. This..." One hand patted Erik's stomach. "Is a baby. Not a MULK or a Klingon."
Derick sat there, actually impressed. Grace sounded like she knew her shit. Uh.. babies.
Erik for his part was looking at Colonel Merrick... and smiling. When he gurgled again, Grace looked down and then to Tom. "He likes you, sir. Here." Without warning, she set him in Tom's lap.
"Bugger," Tom almost jumped out of his seat when she handed the kid over. Looking at the thing (baby stupid), the cherub smiled at him and Tom sat frozen, unable to do anything because the infant was happy for the moment and Tom was convinced that if he moved or breathed, it would start howling and then he'd have no bloody idea what to do next.
"Hullo." He greeted Erik, trying to talk to it like he would any grunt. He could see Lindsey's features in the child’s face as well as Sampson. Tom tried to wrap his mind around the thought of what something he and Alex produced would look like. For the kid's sake, Tom hoped the boy took after its mother.
Completely ill at ease, Tom patted the kid on the head and was rewarded with another delighted chortle.
"Why's he doing that?"
"Because he likes you," Grace repeated, smiling bright and big when Erik caught his mother's voice.
"Ffthhhhhpppbb... BAAAAH..." Like any good grunt, Erik backed up what his commanding officer said. And promptly stuck his foot into Tom's stomach as his attention shifted to the shiny badge around his neck. A chubby hand went for it, unsteady as he was still getting this fingers thing down.
"That's right," Grace cooed, chuckling. "BAH. You can hold him, sir. You're not going to faint, I promise."
On the other side of Grace, Derick snorted, covering it with a hand.
Tom punched him on the shoulder.
Turning back to the kid, Tom made a face as he put his hands on the baby and lifted beneath the rib cage. The child's head rolled back a little as the infant struggled for some neck support. "You...you need to tighten up the hinges on its...I mean his neck." Tom said with an expression of concern. Okay, okay... he was sort of cute. He had a nice smell too...like the bread his mum used to bake.
Laughing, she shook her head. "No. At this stage, there are no hinges. Here..." With one hand supporting Erik's head, Grace motioned Tom to move his fingers up. "Here, your index fingers and middle fingers will be fine," she said. "Right there. Behind his neck. You know, like you've done to his dad a few times."
With clear uncertainty, Tom moved his fingers upwards, holding the kid's neck steady and once again started to feel a surge of panic at all the stuff he'd have to remember to do. "Well I usually leave the heavy lifting to him." Tom retorted indicating Derick but moved his fingers up and noted Erik's head looking a little steadier.
(That was much better - this notdaddy knew what to do!!) Erik pushed himself up on his feet, toes on Tom's thigh as he bounced (this was FUN!!) His eyes got big, locked on Tom and he pushed off the man's leg again. "BAAAAAHAHHHH!HH......bahbababhhhh...thhhpppsshhhfffttttth," came out, with copious amounts of drool. A smile spread across Erik's face at Tom and he ducked his eyes, gurgling amusement as he bounced up and down.
"Excuse the drool." Wiping at it, Grace gave him an affectionate rub gently on his head. "He's cutting his first tooth, I think. Okay. So back to your questions, Colonel."
Confident now that Tom wasn't going to have a panic attack (what was it with guys??), she leaned back. "You feed him when he's hungry although after the first week or so, you start working in a schedule or else you'll go crazy. Bottles.. not right now," she grinned. "He's in MACO heaven so I guess you can say he's still eating off the bar and it's not hooch. They get air in their tummies and need to get it out. The burp and it's measurement on the Richter scale vary, depending on the air bubble, the baby and who knows what else. I'm lucky.. aren't I?" Screwing her face up, she wiped more drool off his chin. "Although it's usually good to try and burp them after you feed them. Now, I'm not gonna lie. It can come back up."
"That we're used to," Derick retorted. "From both parents," he said, winking at Grace.
"Come back up..."Tom stared. "That's doesn't bloody sound good...oh shit I shouldn't swear..fuck I did it again. Bugger…" Tom winced.
The baby was bouncing happily on his legs, smiling at him. This would become a person. This small round bit of flesh was going to become a full grown person, relying on him, Tom Merrick to get him there. Air bubbles... burps and drool. It was almost too much. "How...how...I mean it is worth it, I mean? I mean he could turn out to be an axe murderer or worse... Fleet."
Grace let out a deep breath, the smile on her face soft and motherly. "Yeah, it's worth it," she said quietly. And it made her feel all that more guilty at times. Coming back to the here and now, Grace smiled. "And it's okay to swear. At this age, they don't understand and won't repeat it at inopportune moments," she said.
A frown appeared on Erik's face and he grunted (ohno, his pants were about to get squishy!! He didn't' like that!). This time, the odd sound was muffled but distinct. "FFfftpptt...."
"Again?" Grace asked her son, making a face at him. "I just changed your diaper, Private.." she teased, causing Erik to laugh again (Mama was funny!!) and forget all about his now squishy pants. "Here," Grace held out her hands, taking the baby from Tom. "I need to change his diaper before Pete gets here."
Tom gave Derick a look that said 'at least we don't have to change maggot diapers' and was happy to relinquish young Erik back to his mother for this next phase of parenting especially since his nose was curling at the smell creeping out of the kid's diapers. "That's good, I wouldn't want to fuck up the kid even before it learns to speak." Tom stared at the child. "He looks pretty happy Sampson," he complimented. "I suppose babies are not the problem, its dumb fucks that have to raise them. Present company excluded of course."
"Uh huh..." Grace eyed the man, realizing what that sheen was to his face. Of course, she hadn't recognized it earlier because hell, he was Tom Merrick. The original Ass End of Trouble, as she'd overheard someone say once.
The man who didn't know what fear was.
And who was now sitting on her couch. Afraid.
Kissing Erik's temple (Mommy-soft and smell good-don't like the squishies!!), Grace smiled as everything came together. "So, Colonel. When's the Commander due?" she asked nonchalantly, cooing at Erik for a second.
Tom gave Derick a dark look, so much for keeping this a secret. "February," Tom replied, not even bothering to hide it. He was terrified and this hadn't made his fear any less. If anything, it drove home how fragile the life in his hands was, how possible it was to screw it up.
"Ahh.. Hear that Erik? You'll have another MACO to play with," Grace chuckled and smiled at Derick. (Uhmomma.. squishy pants!)
Smiling in return, Derick patted Grace on the shoulder as he glanced at Tom.
Knowing an exit when she saw one, Grace smiled, moving Erik to a hip. "I've got to get him changed before Pete comes over. He's going to watch him while I get some things done and he's staying for dinner." As always, she wished he'd just... stay. She was exhausted, like her heart was going to up and stop one day. The thought was as frightening as it was at times, welcomed.
"Alright," Derick said, nodding. "Thanks, Corporal. Colonel, I believe we have things to do," he said pointedly, getting to his feet.
"Uh yeah," Tom remarked rising to his feet along with Derick. "Thanks for the reco... I mean the visit." He winced. "It was...educational."
With that, he headed towards the door, stealing one last look at baby Erik. Jesus Christ, he was aware of the freight train coming at him more than ever now. February. The clock was ticking.
“I can’t do this,” Tom looked at Derick once they left Sampson’s house. “Its too bloody much. There’s too much to remember. You heard her, burping and toes and hinges and…and.. diapers. Do you see me changing a diaper? For Christ sake I just got house broken myself! What the fuck is Alex thinking? She’s insane! She can’t possibly want to have a child with me!” He raved. “I’m a grade A fuck up!”
"Dude, relax," Derick replied, glancing sidelong at his friend. If he kept this up, he'd have ulcers by the time the baby got here. "Think about it," he said. There was a lot to do but Sampson made it look.. easy. "If Alex thought that, she'd have taken precautions to never get pregnant. You're not a fuck up. You've been sober.. how long now?" he asked, wondering if he could get away with shaking Tom. "And.. and you're a Lieutenant Colonel now, look at that. And look what you did with me. Straightened my ass out and made me respectable. Somewhat. Mars Rat from Utopia and here I am an officer." Derick stopped Tom with a hand on his shoulder. "Look, you can do this. Alright?"
“I think I’m going to burp up like that kid,” Tom retorted.
However, despite the queasiness caused by extreme anxiety, he had to concede that Derick made valid points. He knew what it was that terrified him most, more than disappointing Alex. “I don’t want to turn out like my old man. I don’t want my kid’s first lesson is how to duck. Fuck Derick, that scares me shitless.”
"You won't," Derick offered soberly. "Alright? For one, Alex won't let you. Two, I won't let you. I'll wipe the floor with your ass if you lay a hand on that kid like that. Besides, look at how different you are from him already. You're not a drunk anymore, you won't be when the kid is born." He ran a hand through his close cropped hair. "Look. We can do this, alright? You can do this."
Tom closed his eyes and nodded, forcing away the images in his head from long ago. His mother saying softly in her tearful but so fucking broken voice ‘he doesn’t mean it Tommy, he just gets mad sometimes.’ Little Tommy Merrick who became the baddest son of a bitch he could so he could forget the fact that he was a frightened kid once upon a time.
“I’ll lose her if I don’t, won’t I?” He looked at Derick. There was always a part of Tom that feared that this life with Alex was too good to be true that when you got this happy, that’s usually when it went to shit. Maximum impact for maximum effect.
Derick had never bullshit the man and he wasn't about to start now. He nodded once. "Yeah. You will." Tom had told him once, long ago when he was a private that a good soldier is never seen. That a good soldier will be on the enemy before the enemy knows he's there... no enemy here... but Alex was a good soldier. Derick could see it Tom's face, had all this time listening to him. Alex had him, long before Tom realized she was there.
Tom exhaled loudly, coming to a decision. For Alex, he would do this and maybe for little Tommy Merrick as well, who wanted and prayed for the kind of dads other kids had except him. Maybe he could do better than his father and lay those last ghosts to rest. “Promise me,” Tom said seriously, “if I ever get that way…even a little. You’ll keep them both safe.”
Squeezing Tom's shoulder, where his hand rested, Derick nodded, not saying anything. He didn't have to. His friend would recognize the darkness in his eyes. There were monsters in both their pasts and long ago, Derick had learned to absorb his, to become that monster if it was ever needed. "I promise." He gave a tight smile and glanced off for a second. "And then you better leave the galaxy because I'll be coming after you." Sometimes the biggest monster Tom had to fight was himself.
“Done,” Tom replied, grateful for this reassurance because turning into his father was his worst fear. However, Derick had gone along way to assuring him that he wouldn’t turn out like his father and that if he did, Derick would watch his back like always. “Fuck,” he let out a sigh, a little more accustomed to this news. “I’m going to be a dad.”
"Yep." He smiled at that and clapped Tom on the shoulder. "Congratulations, man. Erik was fucking cute, wasn't he? I'm gonna buy your kid a Tonka truck and then a tank, get him a little maggot sweatsuit," he grinned. "Maybe some body armour."
“Chris on a crutch,” Tom shook his head in wonder. “I’m going to have a son.” He couldn’t believe it and started the walk home since they were pretty close to the Centauri Quarters where he lived with Alex.
Glad (and relieved) to see that Tom was coming to terms with it, Derick followed along, making a mental list. "Jules will want to get him a chemistry set," he snorted. "We'll need GI Joe toys, gotta find a stuffed Godzilla somewhere..."
Tom laughed as he heard Derick’s chest list. “Oh yeah and we gotta keep space ships far away from him. Last thing I want is my son becoming a fleeter. Although we’ll just keep that one to ourselves,” he smirked. “Alex might get ideas.”
"So can't have that," Derick nodded, following Tom up the steps and into the house that was like a second home to him. Warm and sunny, the place was nowhere near what it would have been had Tom been alone. When Alex appeared from the kitchen, a smile on her face, Derick grinned and wrapped her up in a big bear hug. "Congratulations!"
“Thanks!” Alex beamed happily, her face lit up and Tom found himself smiling, thinking that for her, he’d do the best he could. If she thought they could do this, then he would believe it because she never started anything she couldn’t finish. He loved her enough to try anything for her.
“So,” Alex said pulling away from Derick, “where’s the milk?”
“Milk?” Tom asked blankly.
“When I told you I was pregnant, you ran out of here mumbling something about needing milk for a cuppa or something…”
Derick levelled an eye at Alex. "You know him better than that," he said. "Why do you think I'm here?" he grinned.
Tom gave Derick a look and snorted. “Dobber.”
“Well,” Alex shook her head, not wanting to get into the dynamics of the Frick and Frack relationship or sometimes Abbot and Costello. “I thought you might want to know the rest of it,” she smiled, barely able to contain her happiness. “Guess what,” she looked at Derick with the same delight. “We’re having a girl!"
"A g.. girl?" Derick looked at her. "Why?" he asked on reflex, looking over at Tom, who just looked.. pale. "You okay?"
Tom simply stared, “We need more milk.”
THE END