Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.
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James 'Jimbo' Terry Dixon was not a nice man, and hadn't amounted to much as a father. With a traumatic and violent childhood and upbringing, Robert 'RO' Dixon had always worried that this violence was genetic – or at the very least – something running through his veins.
And so when Rebecca 'Bomber' Brown had come to him with the news that she was pregnant, he had ran. Ran from the woman who loved him, ran from the ship that was a safe haven, and ran from the past now creeping back to haunt him.
He can't remember how long he ran for – or where he went. All he can remember is that when night fell, he found himself on the beach where he had scattered his father's ashes.
He sat there in the sand, staring out at the water – staring, but not seeing. Perhaps tears ran down his cheeks, but the rain that followed soon after washed away any trace as it poured down. Fitting, he thought.
He can still remember the joyful look on Becca's face, the hand on her slightly swollen stomach as she'd shared the news with him. But this image is swiftly overlaid with an image of his father punching him, and as he shut his eyes and tried to rail against the sights before him, he realised in horror that this person now laying on the punches was him.
Opening his eyes and breathing heavily, Robert James Dixon made a decision.
Standing up, he waded into the water until it touched his knees. Throwing his arms up into the pouring rain, he shouts to the heavens. 'I'm going to be a father – and I'm not going to be like you.' Wiping his tears, he continued on. 'My kid is going to love me and I'm going to love them. They're not going to cower in fear and need to hide from me. I swear to God...'
'I'm not like you. I'm not like you,' he repeated as he fell to his knees, waves lapping and crashing around him.
'I'm going to be a father,' sobs RO. 'I'm going to be a father...'
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He was drenched to the bone when he knocked on Becca's door, and he knew that he must look a sorry sight. When she opened the door, the sight of her tear streaked face pierced his heart. He never wanted to hurt her.
He wanted to explain himself, and say how sorry he was that he'd ran out on her. He wanted to make promises, but when she pulled him into his embrace, all he could do was hold her tight and cry.
He didn't think he had any tears left in him, but yet he still wept.
When they parted, he couldn't keep his hand of his Bomber's face. Running his hands over her cheeks, and brushing her hair from her face, he drank in her features with his eyes.
When she grabbed one of his hands and brought it down to rest on the slight swell that encased their child, he looked at their joined hands with trepidation, until his own hand moved of its own volition and embraced where his child lay.
He'd never thought he could feel so much for another person, and he still counted his lucky stars each day Rebecca 'Bomber' Brown was still with him, but the rush of love he felt for this little person – not even a person yet – hit him hard. So hard it hurt.
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When Marieke Aimee Dixon-Brown was born seven months later, her father held her small form in his arms and made his newborn daughter a promise.
'I love you...'
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Author's Note: Marieke means 'star of the sea'. How fitting!