Fatherhood (movieverse)
PG-13, Kuroro
Summary: Kurt contemplates the responsibilites of fatherhood.
Fluff pure and simple....with a little tiny bit of angst. g This has been around for the best part of a few months now but I completely forgot to post it on here!
He was awoken by the thin wails coming from the next room. The temptation tosimply ignore them was almost overwhelming, but despite his fatigue, he knewthat if he didn't go now the cries would soon become full blown screams. Strong as his need for sleep was, he knew that if his daughter woke the entire mansion there would be quite a few people out for his blood in the morning.
"Kurt?"
By his side Ororo rolled over, her eyes still heavy from sleep. Dark shadowsunder her eyes showed she was at least as tired as he. Pressing a kiss to her forehead he smoothed her sleep-ruffled hair.
"Ssssh liebchen, you sleep. I'll get her."
Drowsily she nodded, burying further into the covers. With a groan Kurt pulled himself into a sitting position and groped blindly for a t-shirt. Grabbing the alarm clock he noted the numbers flashing red with resignation. 5am, too early to actually get anything done yet too late for there to be any possibility of him quieting her down and getting back to sleep before he had to get up again.
Slipping on a jacket against the early morning chill he stumbled towards the baby's room.
Soon he was crouched by the wall in the lounge, the quieted baby wrapped tightly in his arms, the television droning steadily in the background.
I have been truly left holding the baby, ja? He chuckled quietly to himself, carefully propping Malaika up against his knees. Not, of course, that he minded. Any excuse to spend time with his daughter was fine by him. Although he would prefer it to be at a more civilised hour.
He found himself studying the infant's tiny, doll-like features, oblivious to anything else as he saw shadows of himself in her face. My eyelashes definitely, and my ears, but her mother's lips. It was with an odd pang he realised the baby had a nose already showing similarity with her genetic grandmother- Mystique.
With a hint of amusement he realised abruptly that Malaika was staring back at him, expression equally serious. Eyes of her mother's intense blue examined him with the same scrutiny he did her. Entirely captivated, Kurt smiled gently.
The baby's tiny lips curved upward in response and his smile changed into an all-encompassing, ridiculous grin. He laughed, hugging her close and stroking her dark baby curls. Ich liebe dich, meine liebling.
"Mutants!"
The shouted word caught his interest, and he shifted Malaika carefully in his arms so he could move a little closer to the television.. A man in a uniform chillingly similar to that of the Nazis was standing a top a podium, his face red with passion and exertion.
"…and we will eradicate these mutant abominations from our country. We will not stop until we have destroyed these monsters once and for all. We will not simply sit around and let ourselves be replaced by this supposedly 'superior' species. We choose to live, we choose to fight!"
He snorted his disgust. This 'Creed' was making it sound like mutants were waging war on humankind, when Kurt and everyone he knew spent most of their time drying to protect them.
Responding perhaps to the anger and disgust on her father's face, Malaika's features screwed up and her mouth opened to emit a whimpering noise, a prelude to crying.
"What's wrong, meine Engelkind?"
Kurt gathered the baby in his arms and held her close, whispering soothing words, his eyes still on the television screen.
"I do not think these so called 'Friends of Humanity' would think much of us, liebling, do you?"
Malaika grumbled again, this time followed by a solid wail.
Kurt cradled her, rocking gently, beginning a soft Romani lullaby he remembered from his own childhood. He had never in his life felt so utterly overwhelmed, so completely incompetent. How was he going to keep her safe from it all when her physical mutations were as obvious as his own? Tears burned his eyes and he realised how desperately he missed his own family. He wanted the guidance of Margali, who had taken in andraised him despite his appearance, a woman who despite her sharp tongue and occasionally short temper had taught him compassion, forgiveness and love. But also, he wanted the love and assistance of the blood mother he had never truly known. Mystique, who had abandoned him at birth and had never even seen the baby he rocked on his knee- her grandchild. How do I do it? Why couldn't you be here to help me? He wasn't entirely sure to which of them his silent plea was addressed.
Absently, he slipped his rosary from his pocket, gently caressing the worn beads. He hadn't even realised what he was doing, until he felt a pull and saw Malaika tugging on the beads with a look of determination.
"Do you like them, liebling? Maybe you will follow in my footsteps in that regard, ja? Your mother never seemed to care for them much."
A soft knock sounded at the door and Kurt sighed, wondering who could possibly be awake this hour. Coaxing the beads out of her pudgy fist, he caught up the baby in his arms and trotted over to the door. But before he could properly reach it, the handle turned as Ororo let herself in.
"Ororo! I was not expecting you up for awhile yet."
"I couldn't get back to sleep properly."
She leant down to place a delicate kiss on the baby's forehead, then caught the tiny fist before it could latch on to the long strands of silver white hair that dangled within its grasp.
"Hello, little one. Have you been behaving? I mean, aside from awaking your parents hours before they should be."
"She has been an angel, as ever."
She took her from his arms and walked around with her, humming some unintelligible tune. Malaika snuggled against her chest without another sound.
The baby's eyelids drooped, long dark lashes settling against her cheek. Soft black curls feel crookedly over her slightly pointed ears as her breathing became more regular.
"Do you ever get scared for her, liebe?"
At her confused look, he gestured to the TV where Graydon Creed was still ranting his bigoted views. A hard look came into her eyes as she shook her head.
"No-I fear for them if they ever touch my daughter…"
She left the threat hanging, her mouth set in a grim line.
As they both watched the footage of an anti-mutant demonstration in New York yesterday, he found the courage to ask the question that had been bothering him for a time now.
"Were we wrong to bring a child into a world so filled with hate?"
She shifted the baby, freeing an arm to pull him close. His fingers, calloused from his years as a trapeze artist, rasped against the satin of her nightgown as he returned her embrace.
"We're not the ones who are wrong, Kurt."