Wholly crap, being woken every few hours is way harder than Lewis thought it was going to be. But man is it rewarding, being a dad. Even just shy of twenty-four hours, he's really loving it. He likes taking care of his son. Yeah, being woken ever two hours is tough, and the tar that comes out of his son's ass is unpleasant, but seeing his boy's eyes crack open and trying to get a glimpse of their colour, carefully putting him into clean clothes, handing him to his mother to be feed, watching him snuggle against her chest and cuddling him afterwards, is the best. He wonders what goes through his son's mind, how aware is he, this young? A day old.

And the crying isn't so loud when he doesn't have his hearing aids in. Actually, he was a bit worried he might not get woken up by his son crying, because he doesn't hear as well, but no, it hasn't been a problem. Gabi wouldn't let him get away with that for long anyway. She's handling motherhood about as well as he is settling into fatherhood. He's not sure, but he thinks they might be secretly racing each other to get to Adam first when he wakes.

Lewis texts his mum to see if it's ok to head over and she texts back that anytime is a good time. So after they wake up, have a ton of coffee (well, Lewis does), shower, dress, eat and Adam goes back to sleep, they head out. Lewis clips Adam's car seat into the back and then goes around to the driver's side. He feels incredibly paranoid driving, like every car is going to blow an intersection, or cross the centre line and hit them. It feels like everyone is driving too fast and he accelerates so carefully from a stop that Gabi looks over at him. He gives a wry smile. "I don't want to jostle him." He does a one-armed 'jostle' sign, nudging his elbow back and forth, like he's purposefully jostling someone.

She takes his hand.

PJPJPJPJ

Lewis pulls into the retirement village and heads right, looping around immaculate, well-manicured streets, all perfectly paved, with evenly spaced driveways. It's easy to get lost here. And he has. Just once. Owen reckons he gets lost all the time, and Lewis doesn't know why he just doesn't use GPS; it seems the most logical thing to do if he has such an issue with direction. Lewis makes another left turn and then left again into the third bungalow on the row. He parks in the driveway and cuts the engine and looks over at his wife. He gives her a smile, but her eyes are careful on his. Yeah, he knows, things with his parents haven't been easy in the last few years. His Dad has been steadily getting worse, which breaks his heart enough as it is, but then he sees how it cuts his mother, and that makes it worse. It was Lewis who suggested they move to an assisted care living facility (blech to the name, but it just means that if something happens with Cal, there are medical staff in the complex who can go over and help. And they check in on Cal and Gillian periodically as well, but they get to keep their independence, because, as Gillian argued for months on end, they don't need other people in their business twenty-four hours a day) and then had to convince everyone else that it was a good idea.

Their family home is far too big for their mum to handle on her own, and with Dad not helping out anymore it got too much. Gabi has been amazing, supporting Lewis with everything, literally, everything. She's gone to help clean the house, bring food, do dishes, call in after work when Lewis couldn't, harass Owen to do the same. She's listened to Lewis trying to justify the move for hours on end, even when he started to repeat himself, in a desperate attempt to get the argument 'just right' so his mother couldn't counter it; so that she could see that taking Cal to a retirement village wasn't a sign of defeat, but adjustment, because she needed help. It wasn't a slight against her ability to look after her husband. She just needed a little change.

Hell, she's even taken Cal screaming at her to get the fuck out of his house.

She's a saint. A proper saint.

"You ok?" Gabi asks as they sit there.

Lewis reaches for his seatbelt and releases the catch. "Yep," he nods.

She puts her hand on his arm, her way of getting his attention, making sure he's looking at her, listening. She watches him a moment with liquid brown eyes. "She said it was a good day," she tries, signing 'good' and 'day'.

"Yeah," Lewis nods. "But I just wish," he draws his hand down his chest, "It wasn't happening this way." He shakes his head as he makes a 'happen' sign.

She nods and reaches for her own seatbelt but before she gets out of the car she grabs his neck and puts a kiss on his cheek. When she pulls back she's smiling and Lewis grins. Gabi gets Adam from the back, and Lewis gets the baby bag from the boot (Cal calls it the boot and Lewis deliberately holds onto the things his Dad says, his British-isms; his way of holding on). He goes to the door and rings the bell and then his mother is there, grinning so brightly, almost bouncing on her toes. She grabs him for a tight hug, quick, slaps a kiss on his cheek and then almost shunts him aside. She's cooing over Adam, still asleep in his car seat, while Gabi stands on the doorstep.

"Mum," Lewis pulls her back gently by the shoulder. "Let them inside."

Gillian makes a shushing sound at him, which could just be her shushing him, or hissing something else that he misses, but she lets him pull her back so Gabi can come in. Gillian leads her into the living room and Lewis closes the door. When he turns back, he has this horrid feeling, wondering where his father is, and dreading what kind of mood he's going to be in. Even though Gillian said he was having a good day. Lewis takes a breath and follows after his wife and mother and son.

Gillian is already lifting Adam out of the car restraint when Lewis enters the room. Cal is there, watching on, but looking a little unsure. Adam stirs but Gillian tucks him expertly against her, shushes him gently, rubs his back, rocks a little on her feet. It makes Lewis smile but he goes to his old man, shoving down that fear that he's going to look at him blankly, because even though it's strange to have his father look at him like he's a stranger, it's not the first time it happened. Not that Lewis wants it to be ok by getting used to it. The air feels claustrophobic as Lewis greets Cal, and he's not sure, but he thinks all other noise stops. "Dad," Lewis puts his hand on Cal's shoulder, bony beneath the t-shirt he's wearing.

There goes the blank stare, and a cloud of confusion, as Cal turns to him. His eyes flicker to Gillian, Lewis can tell, but he remains focused on his father. "It's Lewis," he says, and quickly fingerspells his own name.

"Lewis," Cal repeats and because he doesn't frown or step away from him, Lewis gives him a hug. Which Cal returns, and when Lewis steps back his dad is smiling at him, a crinkly smile, the good, warm kind. "How are you?"

"I'm good Dad," Lewis beams. "Come and meet my son."

"Your son?" Cal asks, like he's finally figured out whose baby this is.

"Adam," Lewis tells him, guiding him by the shoulder to stand with Gillian and have a look. They all watch Cal take in the baby.

"Do you want to have a hold?" Gillian asks, though Lewis is surprised she's going to give the baby up easily.

"Oh no," Cal takes a half step back, "I might drop him." It's not a joke he'd normally make. Normally, he'd be in there. So his lack of confidence tells Lewis that he's still a little unsure about what's happening, and probably who this is.

"Let's sit," Gillian suggests and goes to the couch. Lewis puts the baby bag down by the chair, where the baby carrier is, moves it so he can sit there instead, and Gabi sits with Gillian. They start talking about the first night, how Adam's feeding, how they slept. "Your Dad was a great sleeper," Gillian tells Adam. "But he was terrible at feeding."

Gabi gives a slight smile, shot in Lewis' direction as she answers, "Adam's been great. I think we got lucky." She double taps her middle finger against her chin and then turns it so it's pointing at the floor.

"I think so too," Lewis says from his seat. "But we're still pretty tired." The sign for tired is similar to adjusting a heavy pack on his back.

"Well thank you for coming to see us," Gillian says warmly. She signs a one handed 'visit', a 'V' hand moving towards her in a big circle.

"Owen wasn't great at feeding either," Cal says. He's still standing in the middle of the room, and seems a little lost.

"He wasn't," Gillian continues smoothly, with a smile and a shake of her head. "But he had a good reason," she makes a circular gesture near her forehead.

"He had a rough birth," Cal supplies, as if Gabi and Lewis haven't heard this story before. "Gill's blood pressure dropped and for a while there…" he trails off. Tension fills the room for a second. Gabi looks at Lewis and he purposefully doesn't look at her, so he can pretend he's not bothered by his father confusing his birth story with his brother's.

"Both our boys had a rather tense entrance to the world huh?" Gillian fills that second of silence, looking up at him as if he hasn't said something weird, as if he hasn't dropped off conversation midsentence.

"Hm," Cal says and shuffles on his feet. He's looking confused now, and Lewis wants to get up and take his hand and say 'hey Dad, it's ok, I'm Lewis, your son' but sometimes, that only confuses him further. For now, he only trusts Gillian implicitly.

"We're lucky to have them," she goes on, double tapping her middle finger against her chin and then turning it so it's pointing at the floor.

"Yeah," Cal sighs. He looks to the door, around the room, then settles back on Gillian.

"Do you want to come and sit with us?" She asks. It sounds patronising, the question, not her tone, but Cal needs it. He needs the guidance on what he's doing.

"Whose baby is this?" He asks.

"Lewis and Gabi's," Gillian answers patiently. "This is Adam. Do you want to have a hold?"

"No."

Lewis feels himself tense.

"Babe, can you do me a favour?" Gillian goes on easily. "I need some things for the dinner that we're going to make later."

"You want me to go to the store?"

"Would you? That would be really helpful."

"I'll go with you," Lewis stands, knowing the part he should play in this scenario.

"There's a list in the kitchen," Gillian directs.

"I'll get the list," Lewis volunteers. "Do you need to put shoes on Dad?"

Cal looks at his slippered feet. "Yeah, I uh. I'm not sure where I left my shoes."

"Probably in your bedroom," Lewis directs. They've done this before too.

"Right," Cal agrees and shuffles off to get them.