A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews, alerts and favourites! I'm glad you enjoyed chapter one, and I can only hope you enjoy chapter two as well!
The two watchmen walked across the leaf-covered pavements in the twilight, armed with a baby whom had escaped the realms of death. The world no longer had surprises for either man.
Benjamin gurgled pleasantly in the wheelbarrow they had placed him inside, were he was wrapped up with warm jackets. For now, he was safe. He gazed at what he could see below the brim of the wheelbarrow, as he was propped up like a toy on a shelf.
The night sky would of been cold had Max not covered Benjamin with his work jacket; but seeing as the chill was no longer a problem, the two men and the baby appreciated how light the sky was and were thankful that it was not raining.
"Eh." Max broke the silence and paused, no longer in step with Graham. Graham turned around and raised an eyebrow, before backtracking so he was next to Max once more. "D' you think this place will, like, take the god damn thing?" Max asked hesitantly.
Graham shrugged. "If they don't, then I ain't havin' nothin' to do with little baby Benji no longer. He's a damn curse."
Max frowned and found himself shaking his head in disagreement. "No," he said after a moment's silence, "He's no damn curse. He's a blessing. A gift, if you will. This child is a gift from the God's."
"Whatever he may be--" Graham ceased in pushing the wheelbarrow to face his friend with a 'don't-say-anythin'-else-or-I'll-bust-your-balls' expression, "He ain't gunna have much a life, 'is he now? Instead 'o bein' born from a lady, he was born six feet under. 'Ow are yer' gunna explain that?"
When Max seemed unable to answer, for he either had no winning reply or he was thinking about the baby's future—or lack of future, in Graham's eyes. The two men began to walk in time with one another again, which Benjamin seemed to appreciate. The lapse in movement had caused little frown marks above his eyes, and he had stuck his bottom lip out in protest. Neither man acknowledged this and instead continued to trudge through a sea of leaves, both lost in their own opinion and thought.
--
As the mountain of leaves got higher and higher, destruction laid her path. Lightning struck and the oldest oak fell to her downfall and lay on the ground. The impact of the crash sent a rebound through the area and a few moments after, the heavens opened and rain pelted down like bullets—uncaring and brutal.
Benjamin, who had watched the tree fall with fascination, began to cry softly, his distress pitying. "Look, we gotta get out of here before we get, uh, smushed like peas!" Max grabbed Benjamin in the borrowed jacket and held him against his chest. "Is there anywhere we can go to stay out the, uh, storm?"
"Eh, what 'bout the cafe over there?" Graham began to walk towards the little cafe which, according to the neon sign outside, claimed to be having a deal on cappuccinos and blueberry muffins.
Max nodded and they both ran as fast as they could over the widespread damage which was growing worse and worse by the minute. After what seemed to be an eternity, they fell through the door and into the cafe, which save an elderly gentleman donning a beret and crumpled newspaper, whom was being served by a cheerful looking waitress, was completely empty.
They put the baby down on the counter and pulled up a few red stools which had seen better days. Benjamin ceased his crying and smiled at the waitress, who despite her positive attitude seemed alarmed when she caught sight of the drenched men and the baby.
"What's wrong with this little fella then, eh? Who said ya'll could go plonkin' a baby down on my counter?" She winked to show that she was joking, and Graham attempted a smile. The waitress whose bright nametag indicated her name was Janice, continued to chirp along to them both. "What are two grown men like you doin' out in weather like that, huh? I'm guessin' you want coffees, right? We got a deal goin' on you know," she smiled warmly and paused only to straighten her uniform, "Two coffee's and two blueberry muffins for the price of one coffee and muffin, now ain't that a good deal? Sit yourselves down and tell me all about why you were out in the storm-- in a moment, 'o course! Oh, my name is Janice by th' way."
She pointed unnecessarily to the sparkly name-tag and then turned her back on the men to start pouring milks into mugs which told Graham and Max to love the holy lord. Janice resumed burbling happily to herself, and Max only paid slight attention to her welcoming and afterword's. He glanced at Benjamin who was alarmingly holding firm eye contact with him. "Benji..." murmured the baby, gurgling to himself, "Benji..."
"Yeah," praised Max, delight lighting up his soft brown eyes, "That's your name, baby."
Janice dropped the two mugs down in front of the men with unprofessional written all over her smiling face—if she had not been friendly and welcoming to the men, Graham felt that they would of told her to 'leave off' in a less than friendly tone.
"So! Ya'll have just got to tell me what you're doin' out there in the storm!" She beamed at them and then eyed one of the muffins. "Ya'll gunna eat that?"
"No, help yourself. And as you can tell," Max managed a smile, "We're not in the storm no longer."
She laughed loudly and took a bite of Max's muffin. "Well, aren't ya'll the serious one? But really, what's this one called?"
"Benjamin... we're... uh..." Max looked awkward, "Minding him for Graham's aunt. Isn't that right Graham?"
"Sure, sure... my aunt is very sick." Graham kicked Max under the table and shot him a warning look.
Janice tutted. "Oh, that's just too sad! Have ya'll got a place to stay, or... no?" She took another bite of the muffin and sprayed Benjamin with crumbs. The baby frowned at her but she chose to ignore and instead took a slurp from Graham's coffee and smiled encouragingly.
"Um... well, we were going to that nursing home which is around half an hour away. Figured we'd better sit out the damn storm first though, we don't wanna turn up without the baby, y'know?" Max glanced at Benjamin, whom, despite being six feet under for god knows how long, had an unfaseable personality—nothing or no one seemed unusual to him. It was like he was used to people—whatever that meant, of course.
"Hmm." Janice studied the barometer and turned back with an almost disappointed expression. "Still stormin' and probably will for a few hours. Listen, ya'll could stay here the night, and ya'll can help yourselves to coffee, muffins, the lot!"
"That's very kind of you," Max murmured.
"Dammit, I was gunna order a god damn taxi." Graham frowned at Max and then at Janice, feeling as if the waitress was trying to convince them to stay for personal reasons—such as prying into their personal lives. The young waitress looked hurt at Graham's frank refusal and shook her head, long black curls falling over her face. "Oh no you didn't," she pointed her yellow-painted nail at him with a cross expression, "Ya'll can't take a taxi out in this weather! Taxi will blow over and then were will ya'll be?"
Benjamin moved quietly towards the edge of the counter and inspected the tile floor with interest—where he saw a photograph, lying directly under Max's stool. He leant down, a hand stretched helplessly towards the object, but he lost sense of gravity and almost slipped.
"Whoa lil fella!" Janice scooped Benjamin up in her arms and tutted at him. "Let's get ya' somethin' down you—how about some milk?"
"How about some Vodka?" joked Max—his expression fell when he saw Janice's disproving expression. "Sorry."
"And so ya'll should be, mister! Now, if alcohol is indeed in young—Benji, right? If alcohol is in Benji's diet then he can have a little brandy. Is that okay, little one?"
Benjamin rolled his head backwards then forwards enthusiastically. Max wondered how he could even move—surely his circulation and lack of oxygen would have ordinarily prescribed instant death...
"What a clever boy ya'll are!" She took him towards the back room of the cafe. "Are you two men gunna follow Benji's idea? There ya'll can tell me all about you. And if," she smiled at Graham, "If the weather dies down, I'll give ya'll a lift."
The old man in the beret glanced up from his newspaper and smiled in a lost manner. "Can you take me back too?"
"'Ow heck, I'm not a human taxi now am I Mr B! But sure, I can give you a lift back to the nursing home too."
Max stopped in his tracks. "Um, sir?" He smiled pityingly at the old man. "Do you want to join us in the back too?"
The man rose to his feet eagerly. "Don't mind if I do!"