I was determined to attempt a fic that is relatively fluffy so hopefully I may have achieved that - I tend to find fluff quite difficult. This is set in the future but isn't especially spoilery (or I don't think it is). I hope it's ok.
New Years Eve 2013
There was a stillness to the special care baby unit, a kind of hush. It was at odds with the merriment that was going on outside. So many people would be drinking their own body weight in alcohol, and celebrating the dawning of the new year; making resolutions that would never be kept. But for the man walking slowly through the quiet halls, there was no place else he would rather be.
He smiled as he stepped through the doorway of the little room where his daughter was. The baby was on her own in the room, the other two fishbowl cots for now empty. He couldn't help but wonder for how much longer that would be, but for now it meant he would get some special daddy / daughter time.
He stepped up to the cot and smiled down at her, the baby was awake but not fussing. Instead she looked perfectly contented, occasionally flexing her hands and moving her perfect rosebud lips. It amazed him, that this tiny being was his. That he had helped to create her.
With gentleness he reached down and lifted her in to his arms, feeling the weight of her body melt against him. Her tiny body moulding to him; they fit together perfectly and it made the smile on his face widen.
He cradled the baby, rocking her slightly. Feeling emotions welling in him, there was something so perfect about this moment. The two of them together in the still, quiet night.
He carried her to the window, looking out at the night sky, trying to catch sight of a few twinkling stars before he turned his gaze downwards, he didn't need those stars anymore; he held one of his very own in his arms. This little being was his own little fallen star.
He had waited for so long to feel something, to feel as though he had a family. There were people in this world to who he was biologically related certainly but the feeling of family was something he had long since forgotten.
His siblings were scattered around the country, some he doubted he even had an up to date address for. It wasn't that they didn't want a relationship with each other, it was simply that the familial bonds between the Maconies weren't particularly solid. One slight chink and they broke apart.
It was the legacy left for them by their parents. One of the few things, his parents had given him was the longing for a real family and shattered bonds.
It hadn't always been that way, there had been happy times; or at least through the rose tinted glasses of childhood they had seemed happy. Times of running about with his siblings; of playing games and running home tired and muddy and talking happily to their parents at a mile a minute of the adventures they'd had.
There had been days when the parents had come along with them, and they'd acted normal. His sisters had made daisy chains and weaved them in to bangles for their mother and his father had played games with them.
But it had never truly been normal. Not really, not behind closed door. Behind closed doors were secrets and lies and he had tried to block them out. He'd tried to lock those memories away in the dark recesses of his mind.
But on nights like this, the thoughts like this would plague him. New Years was a night of reminiscing; of thinking of the past and allowing those ghosts to fill the room around you. He could feel them with him now, watching as he rocked his baby in his arms.
He wanted her to know what it was to have a family. She deserved that; to feel that no matter where she went as long as she had people with her – her family – that she was home.
He heard the first burst of fireworks shoot in to the night sky, heralding the new year. He felt the baby startle in his arms, and gently hushed her and held her that little bit closer. Out there in Holby, people would begin drunkenly singing Auld Lang Syne.
Rocking his daughter, he too began to sing. Slowly and softly, not the loud, drunken version that would be sung more commonly tonight but a simple lullaby for his baby girl.
Things were not perfect; not yet.
His relationship with his daughter's mother wasn't what he wanted. They were cordial for the sake of the little life they had created together. It was a mutual decision that they would work together as friends for their child's sake but that a relationship was not on the cards for them; not now.
It wasn't what he really wanted. He wanted what they had once had – or what they had started to have. A relationship built on love, a slowly developing trust and a feeling that just maybe this was for real and was going to last for all time. He had truly begun to believe that he was finding, in her, his family.
But she had been scared. Scared of trusting him and letting herself fall to deeply and scared that he would leave her. She had kept her secret from him, scared that he would disappear and leave her because she couldn't give him something she believed he wanted. Not realising that she brought him so much of what he wanted even without the prospect of children. There was something about lying with her in his arms that made him feel that perhaps he was nearly home. That the journey there was nearly over and he'd made it.
But she had panicked and pushed him away, and he'd let her. He'd let her and he'd pushed her further away.
And then, in a moment of grief, when seeking comfort they had found each other. Two broken wounded hearts pulled together like magnets. They had found each other and in that moment created the baby he cradled now in his arms. He had called that night a mistake but he had been wrong. No mistake had been made.
Fate had brought him a gift. A gift that had left him shell-shocked. His reaction shamed him, the tears she'd shed. But it proved something too; it showed she cared for him, just as he cared for her. And he knew that counted for something, he just needed to show her. He needed to convince her somehow; that this was real – their feelings and the love between them.
He looked down at his baby, she had fallen asleep in his arms despite the noise of the fireworks. He smiled as he watched the bright lights reflect on to the baby's face. This little girl would never know how much she meant to him; or what she would bring to his life. Just as her mother seemingly had no idea what she brought.
They were his family, his home. Only for now they were separate. The baby would go with her mother and he'd visit whenever she'd let him; knowing that he'd never want to leave; that he wanted to hold the two of them in his arms never to let them go; his beautiful girls. He wanted forever with them. He needed forever.
He hoped that one day, his daughter would look back and be able to say she had a family. Not shattered biological bonds but a family who she loved, and loved her back. A family with parents whose bed she had leaped on each Christmas and Birthday morning and parents who'd kissed each other in the kitchen causing her to giggle with embarrassment. It was the dream he'd had as a child; the family he wanted for himself – and now he passed that dream on to her; hoping he could create it for her.
The Naylor-Maconie's. That was who they'd be. The names, as separate entities, were broken but together they became whole.
He knew what he wanted for his baby girl; a mother and father who loved each other and a place she would always know as home. He would have made it his resolution but resolutions were made to be broken and so instead he made a wish on the head of his fallen star.