Malik watched with half-lidded yet attentive eyes as his little boy tottered around on his chubby little toddler legs, furthering his ability to walk. As he was still just a tot—only 20 months old—his skills were lacking and he often fell back on his behind or forward on his hands. Malik always sat up a little straighter and his fingers always twitched in anticipation when his child fell, because he was a parent and he always assumed the worst, but he could always relax not moments later when his little trooper got right back up and kept trying.
Tazim was babbling unintelligibly, the odd baba being thrown in. Malik smiled proudly whenever the word was uttered. His little boy said baba with such a happy, innocent tone he couldn't help but love his son that much more. Tazim suddenly stopped his waddling and looked over at him, lounging on a pile of pillows, and smiled, showing his white rows of baby teeth.
"Baba!" he squealed, smiling wider and reaching toward him, opening and closing his little hands to show that he wanted him. Malik's face morphed into one of fondness as his son started to unsteadily wobble toward him, still reaching for him and repeating baba, baba, baba. He started to lose his balance and before Malik could even advise a warning, the toddler was toppling over, landing on his hands and knees with a grunt.
"Ooo!"
Reflexively, Malik surged forward to assure his child's safety, a concerned look painted onto his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, gently taking one of his son's hands and rubbing the knuckles. Tazim looked up at him and smiled again, laughing at nothing in particular. Malik breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, saying, "Here," as he curled his hand around Tazim's bottom and lifted him up, placing him on a pillow next to him.
Frowning, the infant gurgled unhappily and clambered onto his father's broad chest, sitting up proudly when he completed the difficult task. He grinned at his father and attempted to say something akin to, "I did it!" but it ended up just coming out as delighted baby talk. That was fine. Malik understood.
The toddler started babbling and gesturing wildly, obviously wanting something, but for the life of him, Malik couldn't figure out what.
"What?" he asked, grinning when Tazim made a frustrated noise.
"Plahg gahm, plahg gahm!" he cried.
"You want to play a game?" Tazim nodded enthusiastically. "Okay," Malik agreed.
He didn't know how long he laid there, playing with his energetic son, but soon enough Malik was gently rubbing Tazim's back as the tot rested on his chest. He was still trying to form words in a babyish slur that the Dai couldn't help but think was adorable.
"Baba, Baba," Tazim cooed sleepily.
As he stared at his son's face, Malik was suddenly reminded of the woman who bore him this gift. Poor Akilah…she had died giving birth to Tazim, but the baby had miraculously lived. The Dai missed her—of course he did, she was the mother of his child—but he was just thankful that his beautiful son had survived. If he lost both of them…Allah knows what he would do.
Malik hoped that Tazim would understand when he was older. He hoped that the boy would understand why he didn't have a mother and wouldn't blame himself for it. Even though Malik had lost his lover, he had gained a son, which was the best thing that had ever happened to him. All he wished for was for his little boy to live a strong, healthy, happy life.
It was all he could give him.
"Baba," Tazim called softly, tiredly.
"Yes?"
His son, the one person in the world that he loved more than anything, would die for, was all he had, looked up at him with brown eyes so much like his own and said, "Bahebak, Baba."
Malik nearly stopped breathing.
That was the first time Tazim had said that.
"I love you, Daddy."
He squeezed his infant son in a tight yet gentle hug and responded, "Bahebak, Tazim. It's just you and me, now. But I promise I'll love you and protect for as long as I live."
The baby in his arm just nodded, showing he understood, and that was what made it worth it to Malik. His boy knew how much he loved him and now Tazim was telling him how much he loved his baba. Burying his face in the dark, almost black hair of his little boy, Malik relaxed against the pillows and smiled.
The two drifted off into a nap, then, and only got up when Tazim demanded to be taken around so he could explore. Before they departed, though, he gestured for his father to lean down close to him. Confused, Malik complied, and felt his heart warm when a kiss was pressed to his cheek and small, thin arms wound around his neck in a hug.
"Bahebak, Baba."
A/N: Daddy assassins are the cutest. X3 Aww, Malik's suck a good father. :}
Let's ignore the fact that Malik never actually got to meet his son because GODDAMN IT IT'S JUST THE CUTEST.