New Year's Child.
Ch. 7
This is a fill from DreamWidth from the RotG KINKmeme. Please enjoy!
Now edited!
Pairing: N/A
Genre: Humor, fluff, family, angst (mild).
Rating: T (for swearing)
Enjoy!
~S~
~s~s~S~s~s~
The fact that the Guardians were not able to sleep a wink that night was, all things considered, not at all surprising. Honestly, sleeping in the same building as the Boogeyman? Where he was most definitely not sleeping and none of them could keep an eye on him or the child? Really, it was more a matter of how they were able to make it to their rooms and stay there all night, and not camp outside the door to the nursery.
Actually, this is false – all five of them had made at least one attempt to try and act as a standing guard for the door. But, whether due to the apprehension of who was in the room, or some form of stilted nerves, they never made it outside their own rooms, and would later retire dejectedly back to their beds.
Come morning, the bright sun of the north shining obnoxiously in through their windows, all five Guardians found themselves very tired, very cranky, and very much in need of some coffee. Jack had actually sent a silent prayer to Manny politely asking him to please go and kick the sun's ass so that he may continue to brood in sleepless darkness. Sadly, the sun and its shining ass remained un-kicked.
All five were gathered around the round table situated in the dining area outside the kitchen, cups of different drinks in hand. Jack couldn't stand the bitterness of coffee, and opted for a chocolate milk – he originally wanted a sugary, caffeinated soda, but one look from Tooth had him reaching for the dairy product. Sandy, unsurprisingly, was nursing a glass of eggnog, with Tooth beside him tentatively sipping at her tea. She was eyeing North and Bunny in an almost apprehensive manner, both of the larger Guardians gripping cups of sugar and cream loaded coffee in their hands. No one had taken more than maybe one or two sips of their drinks.
Bags and dark splotches hung heavily under the five spirits' eyes, their gazes listless and unfocused. This mildly surprised Jack – considering how busy all of them were, you'd think they were used to sleepless nights and unfavorable mornings.
His and the other's musing were broken by the sound of silent footsteps reaching their ears. They looked up at their visitor, and had to almost literally squash down the instinctual urge to attack.
Pitch paid them all little mind – he actually seemed to be making a point in ignoring them. He carried a very familiar bundle of green blankets in his arms, the occupant of said fabric just as excited about the morning as the Guardians. Pitch moved past the Guardians wordlessly into the joining kitchen. Moments passed, with the familiar sound of dishes being moved, a fridge being opened and closed, something being shaken, then heated in hot water coming from the kitchen.
The Boogeyman walked back out a minute later, a freshly made bottle in hand and the child cradled in the crook of his other arm. He wordlessly took a free chair – the furthest one from the Guardians – at the table and settled gracefully into it. Cradling the little girl to his chest, he presented the bottle to her, and she sleepily latched onto her breakfast.
It was dead, uncomfortable, silence.
No one said or did anything outside of staring at the motionless Boogeyman. What do you say to a shade playing nursemaid to an infant? What do you do in these kinds of situations? Make conversation? Ask how the other's night was? Offer food? Drink?
Bunnymund – ever the brash and charmingly tactless Pooka – seemed to give them their answer.
"The hell were you up to last night, mate?" He grunted.
It was not the subtlest way of breaking the ice, but it certainly got the room's attention – more specifically, Pitch's. The Boogeyman slowly lifted his head from where he was watching the baby starting to wake up and eagerly chug her breakfast, and locked his eclipse eyes onto the frowning Pooka. Everyone outside Bunny and Pitch – and the oblivious baby – held their breath. If now there was ever a time for Pitch's famous mood swings to suddenly throw them for a loop, now was the time.
But thankfully – or unthankfully, it really depends on who you're asking – Pitch only blinked slowly. He oddly reminded them of an unimpressed cat watching some human commit some foolish antic.
"Yes, Bunnymund, I would love some coffee," he said evenly, before turning his attention back to the girl, "Two spoons of sugar, no cream."
If it were under any other circumstances, this would have been very humorous. Jack actually snorted and had to bite his lip at the look North gave him. Though in his defense, Bunny's face was a rather comedic sight. The way his ears just seemed to drop to the sides of his head, eyes wide and mouth screwed up in an outraged, uneven line, and his left whiskers twitching almost spastically – how could he not laugh?
"Excuse me…?" He rasped, oddly calm.
"You are excused," Pitch replied flatly, pulling the bottle away from the child when it became apparent she was more interested in trying to suck the now empty plastic into her mouth, "And watch your language. She may be an infant and not understand, but she is still an impressionable child."
Something audibly snapped in Bunny's head. Everyone was certainof this.
The Pooka stood up so fast that his chair scraped back obnoxiously, and his abdomen hit the table edge hard enough to knock his now cold coffee over. His fur bristled and he snarled openly at Pitch.
"You do not get to treat me like some servant-boy, got it?!" he snapped, pointing a claw at the impassive shade, "We have been nothing but hospitable, and-"
"You call prowling outside the girl's room and attempting to spy on me 'hospitable'?" Pitch deadpanned, narrowing his eyes.
The Guardians actually had the decency to flinch slightly at the accusation. So he did notice. Oddly, they weren't half as surprised as they outwardly showed. Pitch was the King of Nightmares and the ruler of darkness and shadows – for all they knew, he was spying on them from the shadows as they slept.
'That's a comforting thought…' Jack thought with a shudder. He hoped Pitch didn't see his vast collection of stuffed penguins and polar bears…
Bunny looked like he had finally grasped a proper response to the jibe, but was stopped when North placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Just bring out extra mug for him," he said calmly, "We shall discuss things later."
Though irritated and still highly flustered, Bunny complied grudgingly. He shot Pitch one last suspicious glare before he stomped off for the kitchen.
"And I will know if you spit in it or do something equally as foul, so don't even try," Pitch called after him.
Bunny stumbled slightly, but didn't turn to confront the Boogeyman. Instead he growled lowly to himself and stormed off out of sight.
The room fell into an awkward, tense silence. No one made any attempt to start a conversation, or even make eye contact. The Guardians were shifting their gazes between one another, as if expecting someone other than themselves to say something. So far, no one really had the guts to so much as ask how the weather was…
Jack, however – whether in a moment of naivety or bravery (stupidity) – finally spoke up.
"So…uh…" he cleared his throat, tapping a finger against the table, "So how was she last night? Sleep well?"
"Yes, actually," Pitch said offhandedly, but not unkindly. He set the empty bottle down on the table and leaned the child against one shoulder, gently patting her back until she let out a small hiccup that slightly jolted her against him (Tooth would not deny cooing at the display), "Out like a light, only woke up hungry two or three times."
"And that's…good?" Jack asked skeptically. If he were woken up even once at night, he'd be pretty cranky. Yet Pitch, while still sharp tongued, was acting so…subdued.
Pitch snorted as he settled the girl in his arms, "Please, one can expect to be woken up every two hours in the night with a child young enough. And even then, some will wake and call for their daddy or mommy to scare the monsters away…"
What once started out as a decent breakthrough in conversation now took a rather bitter turn. The Guardians eyed one another and shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Jack suddenly seemed to run out of topics to discuss. Thank the Moon for Sandy – silent, yet always has something to say.
He got Pitch's attention and formed a duplicate of the child's cradle and the baby herself. Question marked appeared to swirl above the sand-child, and he gave an inquiring quirk of the brow. Pitch scowled.
"No, Sanderson, she did not dream," he said evenly, but there was a note of warning in his voice, "Even if she did, and I was even remotely tempted into turning it into a Nightmare – which I would not – there is still the risk of creating one accidentally with me in the direct vicinity."
"Then why not just leave her alone?" Bunny grumbled. He roughly planted the coffee mug on the table and slid it towards Pitch. The Boogeyman caught it before it could tip and spill its piping hot contents on the child – whom was taking a rather deep interest in the odd fabric of Pitch's cloak.
"You do not leave an infant alone, especially at night." He growled. He brought the mug up to his mouth and sniffed its contents, staring into the dark liquid. He didn't smell any sign of tampering or poison so far.
"Why though? I mean, she doesn't do much, what would she be doing in her sleep?" Jack asked.
Pitch fixed the frost sprite a look that could only be described as deadly. He's pretty sure he's seen that look given to dogs from cats. Or perhaps when he once made a very vague implication of Tooth putting on just a tiny bit of weight…
"Aside from her possibly crawling out of her crib, becoming distressed in some manner, smothering herself in her blankets, or I not hearing when she needs to be fed again…" – pause for dramatic effect – "I'm sure North's elves would find it just delightful to try and take her out for a sordid adventure."
"Nyet! Elves would do no such thing!" North snapped in outrage.
"Then tell them to stay out of her bloody room…" Pitch said through clenched teeth.
It was apparent he was using every fiber of his being to not outright curse at the Guardians, and it seemed like his already thin tolerance and patience was starting to waver. Seeing this – they could all practically see the metaphorical thread in his head being stretched to its limits – the Guardians decided not to press the issue any further. North was left frowning into his drink, muttering about 'elf-proofing' some of the rooms or some such thing.
The lapse in silence was broken by the sound of the little girl cooing insistently in Pitch's arms. Pitch looked down at the young girl, his features visibly softening as he brought a hand up to take one of her tiny hands in his.
"What is it, princess?" He inquired softly.
The child only squirmed and tugged as hard as she could – which wasn't very hard – on Pitch's hand. She turned her head this way and that, before she paused and babbled insistently. She used her free arm to flail out and seemingly point towards the door leading out of the dining area and into the Globe Room.
"What does she want?" Tooth asked tentatively.
Pitch seemed to consider the child in his arms, adjusting her slightly when she almost managed to break free of his hold.
"I think she is bored," he said, before turning a condescending look to North, "I suppose it is expecting too much if I were to ask if you have safe baby toys?"
Not one to back down from a challenge, North crossed his beefy arms and puffed out his chest, "Nyet, we have baby toys. Even infants have wishes and desires."
Pitch only offered a noncommittal sound to the Russian, and quickly drained his coffee. He stood and pushed his chair back in with a nudge of the hip, securing the baby in his arms.
"Good, I expect to see them within ten minutes for her entertainment," he said, before he turned on his heels and made for the Globe Room to let the baby crawl around and get some of her jitters out. "Don't dally, Cossack."
And once the doors closed, the Guardians were left with their colorful thoughts. Bunny, as usual, seemed rather outraged and was no doubt thinking up many scenarios of how Pitch could die. Tooth and Sandy just seemed uncertain and worried. Jack was mentally marking off all the possible ways to rile Pitch up and turn him into an icy blue stain on a wall. And North, he was already barking out orders to a nearby Yeti to, 'bring out best baby toys we have! Yes, even from the unreleased shelves! GO!'
He seemed determined to impress Pitch for some reason…
~s~S~s~
By the time North had returned – flanked by two Yetis carrying two crates each of baby toys – it seemed the child had already found a means of entertaining herself.
More specifically, North's hat, jacket, and a potted plant.
Pitch was perched watchfully on an armchair, watching in amusement as the baby girl made a fluffy fort out of North's jacket and a potted miniature Christmas tree as a support. She was hugging North's hat like a teddy bear, and judging by the oddly stiff tufts of fur in some places on it, she's been chewing on it as well…
"You know, at first I was against her touching your garish things," Pitch offered nonchalantly, "But come now, who can say 'no' to that face? I hope you don't mind."
The cheeky grin he gave them was something to envy – or at least for a hyena or a ravenous wolf. North almost wanted to pick the thin man up and throw him into the roaring fireplace. Almost.
"Nyet, is just fine," North said, waving a hand dismissively. Judging by the slight drop in Pitch's grin, this wasn't the reaction he wanted, "But! I have devised small selection-"
"Small my tail…"
"-of baby toys for little girl to choose from!" North went on, seemingly not hearing Bunny's muttered grousing.
"I can see that…" Pitch deadpanned, eyeing the crates of toys almost apprehensively. Though to be fair, they were rather big. "And you expect me to believe any of what is in those boxes are safe?"
"Of course! I had them all tested!" North bellowed.
"By whom?" Pitch grumbled, "And if you say 'baby Yeti', you can turn right around now and dump them out into a furnace."
North paused suddenly in his next declaration. His jaw snapped shut, and he blinked at Pitch with wide eyes, suddenly sheepish. He seemed to deflate slightly, and his confident grin turned meek.
"Eh, no, no, they were…tested by…" he paused, trying to find the right words, "Ah…Jack!"
"Jack who?" Jack rasped to North, staring up at the man in disbelief. Bunny actually snorted and covered his smirking muzzle with a paw, while Tooth bit her lip and Sandy palmed his forehead.
Pitch was flat in expression, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes.
"Charming as that mental image is…" he stood up and brushed his cloak off, sauntering over to the suddenly tense Yetis, "I think you can leave your 'inspection' to me."
Tendrils of shadows suddenly sprouted from the wall and snatched up the crates like large snakes. The Yetis grumbled and barked nervously at having their cargo taken, but the boxes were lifted out of their reach and brought over to Pitch. A tendril pried into one crate and tore it open seemingly without effort. Pitch reached in and pulled out what looked like a simple green ball with yellow flowers on it.
"Assuming she even likes a third of these things, I'm sure this will go splendidly," he said brightly.
It went anything but 'splendidly'…
The ball passed Pitch's inspection, and the little girl seemed to have an utter blast with the little round thing. She laughed and giggled and cooed as she would roll it away and chase after it, or roll it to someone else and demand they push it back to her. She eventually discovered its ability to bounce and make a small, low squeaking sound, which prompted an excited cry from her as she worked her arms into bouncing it as hard as she could – which wasn't very hard, mind you.
And along with the ball, only three other toys passed the inspection. One was a box of colorful blocks with animals painted on them. The next was a toy bird on wheels that, when pulled back, would ride off a small distance while flapping its thick wings and singing what sounded like 'jingle bells' – this disgruntled Pitch at first, but the little girl immediately demanded the thing, and he gave in.
And lastly was a stuffed horse. Black, with a dark yarn mane (trimmed down so she wouldn't choke if she put it in her mouth), and boasting shiny gold eyes. It use to have blue eyes, but Pitch – the savage man – had scowled disapprovingly at it and picked up a yellow eyed stuffed puppy – it was too fuzzy and the tail too long for the girl. And much to the Guardians' – mostly North's – horror, he tore out the puppy's and the horses' button eyes. Using a needle made from Nightmare sand, he used the remaining threads to sew the puppy's yellow eyes into the horse's head. And then he promptly dumped the mutilated puppy back into the 'reject' crate.
The little girl happily fell in love with the dark horse and would scowl brimstone and hellfire at anyone who got too close to it. North mourned the prototype puppy he had so much hope for…
Everything else was stacked and tossed haphazardly and without care back into the crates. Pitch deemed almost everything in the boxes either too dangerous, hazardous, or just stupid. Some other stuffed toys made it out with Pitch's approval, along with some other generic baby toys, but those four toys were her absolute favorites.
"What about this one?" Tooth asked hopefully.
Pitch looked up from scrutinizing a poor, defenseless elf doll, and up at Tooth's suggestion. He nearly gagged at the green dressed, blond haired, sparkly winged, fairy doll that the fairy queen held. And was it just him, or did it look like she had attempted to stick some feathers into it at some point?
"No…" he deadpanned. Hell no was what he wanted to say…along with some other, equally colorful words.
"Oh come on! What about this handsome guy?" Jack piped in, holding up what, to Pitch, seemed to be the result of the frost sprite rifling through the ruined rejects and putting together some kind of macabre version of himself in doll form.
He blinked slowly at the stuffed polar bear in a blue long-sleeve shirt, holding an overly long magic wand, and…and was that the yarn hair from that overly fluffy sheep doll he rejected on its head? By the Moon, Frost was worse than he was at ruining toys. Pitch was almost jealous.
"No," he said firmly.
He was about to reach for another toy (the poor thing), when Sandy suddenly floated into his field of vision holding something garishly yellow in his little hands. He presented it meekly to Pitch, and the Boogeyman held no illusions over the utter horror he felt.
It, whatever it was, appeared to be a large, stuffed five-point star with an overly large smiley face on it, and glitter everywhere. The wide smile reminded Pitch disgustingly of the Sandman's own gap-toothed grin. It made him sick.
"Not a chance," he growled. He no sooner shot a warning look at Bunnymund, who was eyeing him warily as he tried to discreetly hide a grey stuffed rabbit behind his back.
North presented a stuffed Santa toy with a sword. Pitch tossed it into the fire without even so much as a word of his repulsion.
North seemed close to tears again.
"You, sir, are beyond cruel…" Jack muttered, sitting sulkily in an armchair with his mini-twin by his side. "What did the toys ever do to you?"
"I could ask you the same thing about the elves, what with how much you randomly flash-freeze them," was Pitch's flat response.
Jack made to retort, but found no clever response on his tongue. He only pouted and grumbled about stubborn Boogeymen and Scrooges that hid under beds. The toy inspection was soon over at this point, and Pitch waved a wrist deftly and had the crates shoved to the back wall via his shadows. He inspected the room thoughtfully, as if he were searching for some toy stupid enough to have tried to avoid him. He found none, and turned back to the Guardians.
"Well, that went much smoother than I anticipated," he said pleasantly.
The others almost wanted to argue, but thankfully decided it wasn't worth the headache. Or the mutilation of their little toy doubles – North had demanded a remake of his lost Santa doll immediately from one of his Yetis.
"Great, she got her toys, now what?" Bunny groused.
"Perhaps we should find girl more clothes?" North suggested. She only had about a week's worth of baby clothing, but as babies went, they were messy, and she'd need a nice sized wardrobe.
"No, we obviously let her have play-time," Jack said, deftly kicking the ball back to the mentioned baby.
"The girl is fine as she is, we can deal with other items later," Pitch said firmly. Sandy suddenly frowned and waved to get everyone's attention.
They watched curiously as the Sandman made various Dreamsand arrows and pointed them all at the baby girl, and question marks popped up around them. He shrugged, and gestured to the girl.
Pitch looked anything but impressed, "Sanderson, we call children like her 'babies'."
Sandy scowled and puffed up in indignation at the completely missed point. He spread the arrows around until one was pointing at each Guardian and Pitch. Above each arrow appeared their own names in sand – North, Bunny, Tooth, Sandy, Jack, Pitch…and a row of question marks over the baby, who was playing obliviously with her blocks.
Everyone's brows shot up in surprise, and they stared at Sandy and then looked over at the little girl.
They haven't given her a name yet…
'How did we miss THAT?' They all wondered.
Looking to one another inquisitively, the spirits shuffled in place briefly before anyone spoke up with a suggestion.
"…we can't name her," Bunny suddenly said.
"What? Why not?" Tooth inquired, glaring at the Pooka.
"Because! It's like when some kid picks up a stray dog and gives it a name!" Bunny argued. The others blinked, bewildered at his strange logic.
"…she isn't a dog, Bunny," Jack stated, "And…what's your point?"
Bunny scowled, gesturing to the baby girl, "Frost, I'm being serious here. It's a proven fact that once you name it, you start getting attached to it!"
"…so you want us to put that thing back where it came from, or so help you?" Jack grinned.
"Ye-NO! You little-!" Jack only slapped his knee and cackled as the Pooka threw a doll at the frost sprite.
North, Tooth, Sandy and Pitch only rolled their eyes and regarded one another. Though Bunny had a somewhat fair point, they doubted it would come down to them keeping the girl. Especially if her parents were looking for her. It wouldn't even be her actual name if that was the case. It would simply be a name they would use so they wouldn't have to keep calling her 'girl' or 'the baby'. That was all it was.
"…I like Ekaterina." North blurted out.
Reeling back, Pitch and the other Guardians expressed their disapproval of the name. Even Jack and Bunny seemed to lose interest in their argument to express their outrage. And so the naming war began.
They all argued heatedly on what to name the baby girl. North kept insisting on Ekaterina or some other Russian name, Bunny was spouting off flower and bug names like a machine, and Tooth was constantly being shot down for her various forms of teeth names. Jack would keep insisting on Jaqueline, Jackie, or the oh so very creative Jack Jr. Sandy…well, no one could really tell what he was saying – North was blatantly ignoring the poor star's suggestions. And Pitch was, as usual, shooting down every single attempt at a name the Guardians made.
And by the time everyone was shouting at one another all at once, Pitch had finally had enough.
"STOP!" He shouted, getting everyone's attention. He rubbed at his temples and glared at each Guardian in turn, "No, no, absolutely not, not happening, NO. Period."
"Well who says you get to name her, huh?" Jack snapped, "I'm the one who found her! I should get to name her."
"Oh like Jack Jr. wasn't even a remote implication to your narcissism," Bunny muttered.
"Hey! At least mine don't sound like pet names!" Jack snapped at the Pooka, "I mean really? Daisy? Daffodil? POPPY?"
"At least mine was original!" North bellowed.
"Was not!" Tooth screeched, causing everyone to flinch.
Sandy threw up various symbols regarding just how dumb everyone's choices were, and how stupid they were acting. Pitch had to hand it to the star, they were acting stupid about this. But his name suggestions were just as bad…
Sighing in aggravation, Pitch rubbed at his aching forehead as the others continued to prattle and shout at one another. Gods, what he would kill for an aspirin – or a stiff drink really. Maybe he could raid North's liquor cabinet when he wasn't look-
Crash!
Everyone jumped suddenly at the sound of pottery breaking and something swishing down onto the floor. Swiftly turning, they looked over at where the girl was. Or at least where she should have been. Where once there was a girl was now a deflated fort and a pile of dirt, a broken pot, and a loose plant.
At first stunned, the Guardians were jolted from their shock when Pitch let loose a rather un-manly yelp and bolted to the plant. The Guardians all rushed after Pitch as he slid to his knees and dug around in the pile of loamy soil and the dirty coat. He was practically hyperventilating by this point as the tiny girl was lost in the dirt pile.
"Where is she, where is she…?!" He rasped.
The others stood by nervously and anxiously. Did she maybe hit her head? Or cut herself on the pottery? They were all going over every possible thought that could mean the child's inevitable pain or harm. It did little to no good in comforting them.
The tree suddenly shifted, and a slight coo was heard. Pitch froze as a lump of dirt moved and was pushed up and dripped down a mop of dark hair. The child's head popped up out of the dirt, looking all too pleased with herself as she dug around in the dirt. She giggled as she shook some dirt off her head and unearthed one of her many blocks, presenting it to Pitch proudly like a newly discovered treasure.
The Boogeyman stared wide eyed at her for a long moment, before he seemed to deflate and hunch over in relief and exhaustion.
"By the gods, child, don't scare me like that…!" He rasped. The baby cocked her head in confusion, lowering the block. Did he not like it?
"I-is she okay?" Tooth asked, hovering closer to the child. The girl looked up and scowled at the fairy, throwing a clot of dirt at her – and missing the fairy by a whole three feet.
Pitch picked the girl up and dusted some of the moist dirt off of her, much to her chagrin. He inspected her closely for any signs of injury, and let out a sigh of relief when he found none.
"She's fine…" he sighed, calming slightly, "Dirty, but fine."
Everyone seemed to sigh in relief at this, and were all suddenly exhausted. Pitch blew a hair that had fallen in his face out of the way, and began to wipe off more of the dirt from the girl. She pouted and whined, trying to shove his hand away – she seemed quite determined to remain covered in dirt. Pitch chuckled as he wiped a smudge from her button nose.
"None of that now you little troublemaker, you don't need to be covered in dirt to have fun…" he suddenly paused and frowned, observing the child.
Dirt…soil…earth…
The Guardians tensed at the Boogeyman's seemingly scrutinizing the baby girl. They could not tell what he was thinking, but he seemed contemplative. He suddenly stood up with the girl in his arms and hummed thoughtfully to himself. He cocked his head and flicked a bit of pine from her shoulder as he pursed his lips. The girl seemed to find this humorous and laughed at the otherwise intimidating face Pitch was making.
"Ah…Pitch?" North inquired carefully.
Pitch didn't answer, but after a moment, his features cleared and softened. He smiled warmly at the girl in his arms and cocked his head to one side as he spoke, as if testing the word.
"Gaia."
To be continued…
