This is just a small one shot about Ghost Rider dealing with an upset Caelan on his own. Ghost Rider may appear a bit OOC but then again he isn't fighting anyone, just looking after his child.
Here's hoping you all enjoy this.
Expectations
His existence had been a difficult one. There were very few other beings that had endured as much as he had and lived as long. This resulted in him being better prepared for most things than ordinary people: death, destruction, war, violence, tragedy and so on. But he was Zarathos, Angel of Justice, Spirit of Vengeance, the Ghost Rider and so that was to be expected.
What wasn't expected of him now lay swaddled in blankets in a fireproof crib. What wasn't expect of him was to, during the day when he could not go unseen in his work, watch over his sleeping son, cooing him softly to sleep when he awoke, feeding him, (although he didn't help in changing Caelan or bath time. There were just certain things that weren't practical for him to do) and telling him stories. As he spoke, images constructed out of fire would dance around his son, playing out the tale as it was spun. Caelan would laugh and try to touch them, would frown when he did, as they would come apart in a flaming mist, similar to steam slipping through fingers.
Sometimes, but not often, Caelan would cry. At what Ghost Rider was never sure, there were so many different possibilities, nightmares for instance, and his knowledge of humans did not extent in detail to their young. When Caelan cried, Ghost Rider would pick him up and hold him close. He would pace the room and tell Caelan all his favourite stories; he would bounce him on his knee and he would coo at his child. Thankfully as soon as Caelan was in his father's arms he tended to stop, unfortunately however, this was not one of those times.
"Shh. It's okay, it's okay." He soothed for the fifth time.
The baby simply continued to wail, tears streaming down its chubby face and soaking his fire proof clothes. For the nth time Ghost Rider prayed Sarah would be back soon with Johnny from finishing a job. It wasn't anything big, just a few lesser demons stepping over their boundaries. Nothing that he was needed for, so he had been left with Caelan.
He wished Caelan could tell him what was the matter; he wished Sarah was there to help – she was so much better at this than he was. For a moment he went through all the things that Sarah normally did to calm the boy. Food? The child wasn't hungry. Needed changing? He couldn't smell anything vile emanating from the child's behind. Stories? He's tried that already. Toys? The boy had thrown them away and had lobbed a building block at Ghost Rider's skull. It was presently a smouldering pile of ash in the bin. Tired? Most likely, but he had been crying for the last five minutes so that wasn't a surprise.
"Shh," He tried again and went to wipe away the tears, which turned to steam when his gloved hand neared, "It's okay. Daddy's here." Daddy was another thing that he wasn't used to being and he defiantly wasn't used to hearing.
To his surprise Caelan stopped crying for a moment, looked up at him with his big blue eyes. "Ada?"
"I'm right here. Don't worry, I won't let anything hurt you."
The child hiccupped a few times. His lip trembled but he didn't cry. Instead he snuggled down into his father's arms and stared up into his empty eye sockets and make nonsensical noises, apparently telling his father all about his woes and troubles.
It may not have been expected of him, but fatherhood was defiantly something he wouldn't give up.