22. cradle
This is... not how he imagined this happening.
Admittedly, a lot of his long-term plans got a little bushwhacked on their way to the forum considering that his entire civilization had been pretty much bombed out of existence in one way or another. It's a little bit strange to realize that he's still surprised when things don't turn out the way he'd vaguely planned them.
The little warm bundle of baby curled in his arms gives a soft little coo. For a second it looks like his son is going to wake up and possibly start screaming the place down, but with a gentle little rock, the boy curls into his blankets, his breathing smoothing out.
Outside, Billy can hear the continuous, steady rain beat against the side of his tent. And as much as he is sick of the cold and the damp and the mildew, he's thankful that his son - his son - responds so well to the steady quiet rhythm.
His mother had once told him that the only think that could put him out was a quick trip around the block in the groundcar. She'd always laughed while telling him stories of his early years, told usually during the preparation for a family meal. He has so many memories of his mother laughing in the kitchen, surrounded by his sisters, all of them pealing or chopping or stirring something.
Billy wishes his son could have met his grandmother. He knows she would have been completely in love.
"C'mon, little guy." Carefully, Billy stood, running a hand down his son's back, bouncing him a little when he made a few settling squeaks. "No, Grandma Keikeya wouldn't have been too happy knowing that her precious first grandson was going to be sleeping in a box."
As with everything else in his world, his son's cradle had been scavenged from available materials. Given the baby boom that had flourished since New Caprica's establishment eleven months previous, more and more amateur woodworkers had been given the chance to try their craft at bassinets and cradles. His son's had been one of the first few off the line, and so it rather lacked in ornamentation.
Still, it worked for what it needed to do.
Gently, Billy lowered the small boy into his sleeping cot, brushing a kiss over his tiny little forehead before tucking him in.
"Night, little guy."
No, this wasn't how he'd imagined being a father. But it was still pretty amazing.
